


Sequins and Feathers

by Rioghna



Series: Sequins and Feathers [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Witchblade (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Burlesque, F/M, Modern AU, Multi, Other, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 85,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rioghna/pseuds/Rioghna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU  Robert Gold had no idea what he was in for when he accepted an invitation to join Alex Midas at a Burlesque show.  Set in New York City, modern day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Invitation

 

 

Sequins and Feathers

A burlesque show?! What had he been thinking when he had accepted the invitation? Now, as Robert Gold sat in the back of the black car service car with business colleague Alexander Midas, he was having second and third thoughts about this. It wasn't that he minded socialising with Midas, or any more than he minded socialising with anyone, particularly, perhaps somewhat less. But a burlesque show? Somehow he couldn't see himself, or Midas for that matter watching some kind of up market strippers in a sleazy club. They had had dinner at a lovely restaurant in Midtown and were now riding south to the Lower East Side, and Gold was trying desperately to figure out why he had agreed.

"I had thought of inviting Spencer as well, but the man is..." Midas paused just a little as he considering the right words.

"A philistine?" Gold supplied helpfully. He had a well known and equally well publicised dislike of the man and would have seriously reconsidered if he had known the other man was coming. Mind, it might be a bit more in his line, the man was almost as well known for his less than discreet affairs. Midas, since he had to work with both of them and their companies, kept his opinion to himself, a trait which Gold, if not Spencer, appreciated.

"Well, as my daughter is managing the troupe, I thought it best to leave him out of this little excursion."

Ah, clarity at last. He'd not thought that she would be into that sort of thing, but there had to be a start somewhere, he supposed. Certainly he wouldn't want to have Spencer along in that case. Not after that rather public and spectacular break up between his daughter Abigail, a rather bright and beautiful girl, and Spencer's obnoxious son, he thought to himself, but said nothing.

He had always rather liked Midas. The man had been born with a golden spoon in his mouth, and after quite spectacular successes with his father's company when he had first taken the reigns, he had an equally spectacular failure. Gold still remembered the headline, 'Has Midas lost his Golden Touch?'. He'd been subjected to some of the same sorts of horrible puns himself, and it didn't get any easier. However the man had possessed the twin useful traits of intelligence and perseverance. He had managed to turn the company around himself, with a little advice from Gold. He had fired all the toadies and his father's remaining half senile cronies and built the company back from, not just the ground floor up, but more like the basement.

Gold, a self made man himself, appreciated that and the hard work it had taken. The other thing that they had in common was, in fact, their children. Neither had been interested in following in their fathers' footsteps, nor had they been interested in being rich lay abouts (like James Spencer). Abigail had gone off to study Theatre Arts, with an eye towards management and directing. His son Bae, also always artistic, had, with a great deal of work and determination (not to mention bloody minded stubbornness but as he got that from his father, as he was never afraid to point it out to him) had put himself through art college, or mostly.

Even when he had got his girlfriend, Emma, a lovely and equally determined criminal justice student, pregnant, he had insisted (when he had finally been forced to accept money from his father) that it was a loan, with properly drawn up paperwork. "It's not that I don't appreciate it, Pop. But I want to make it on my own, just like you did. That's what you taught me, remember?" There was nothing he could say to that. Now, Bae had his own gallery, where he showed not only his own works but other up and coming artists. Emma, his now wife, had just made detective last year in the sex crimes division, and his grandson was the most beautiful and intelligent young child he had seen since Bae himself.

The car slowed and Gold dragged himself back to the present and managed an almost smile as the driver held the door for him. As he was easing himself out of the back of the car, he took in the club they had stopped in front of. It was not the least bit what he had expected. It looked a bit like an old fashioned club bar, the sort that still existed here and there, rather like something found in a high end hotel or possibly an old school club, something from the last century or before. Not what was meant in America by a gentleman's club either, but an establishment where the alcohol and the food were of quality and the conversations moderate. Not the sort of place that would be filled with rowdy drunks and loudmouths. The outside had large glass doors (that probably came off when the weather was nice, to allow people to take advantage. Inside, the booths were red leather, the curtains were velvet and the rails were polished brass. Over all it had a very turn of the century, gilded age feel to it. If he hadn't known what he was coming for, he might have even decided he liked it. Midas spoke to someone behind the bar and they were directed to where a velvet curtain hung with a rope across it, and a woman in an evening dress was holding a clipboard.

"Good evening," the woman said to them, politely.

"Midas and Gold, I believe we are on the list," Alex said to her, and the smile went from polite to something friendlier.

"Oh, of course, you're Abigail's father, pleased to meet you and your friend, Mr. Gold, is it?" He nodded. "I have a table reserved for you, let me take you up right now. We haven't actually opened the door yet, but you hardly count, do you?" she said, pulling the rope aside and guiding them through the curtain and up the stairs.

The room was practically the twin of the one downstairs, but instead of a bar at one end there was a stage and the tables were lined up to give a good view. Inwardly Gold groaned. Not only did he have to sit through this display but he had to be front and center for it. He vowed to order himself a large scotch as soon as the waitress came round. He had little doubt that this was going to be one of the longest nights of his life. Abigail came out from the back stage area, obviously the girl on the door had informed her of their presence. She was wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt bearing the logo 'Nouvelle Xotic' (with a bloody X for God's sake, he hated those cutesy spellings) across the front in silver glitter letters.

"Hello Daddy," she said dropping a kiss on his cheek, while he smiled fondly at her. "And Mr. Gold. I am glad you were able to join us. It should be a fabulous show, at least I hope it will be."

"I am certain it will be a unique experience," Gold said diplomatically. Not that he was a prude, not exactly anyway, but he admitted to certain old fashioned sensibilities. Taking a business associate to a strip show was not as uncommon as he would have liked to admit, though he generally managed to avoid those sorts of things, but this was all the more uncomfortable to him for being out of the ordinary.

"Well, I have a lot to do before the show. The owner of the venue is going to be watching. She used to be a famous burlesque performer, so we really need to impress her tonight to keep our place. There are other troupes who would love to get in at this venue. It is very nice, not like a lot of places they have done in the past. It helps that we tend towards the vintage esthetic which is what she is looking for. I am told she is extremely critical, but so far, she has been nice when I have had to deal with her."

"I am certain that you will do well, sweetheart," Midas told her. "It will be fine." Abigail nodded, and with a quick farewell, disappeared behind the black curtain to the side of the stage.

Midas sighed. "She's not a little girl anymore. It's just difficult, especially when there is nothing to do but be supportive of them, I can't slay her dragons for her anymore."

"Aye, they have to grow up sometime," he said quietly thinking of his own son, only a few blocks away from where he was sitting. If there were a polite way, he would slip out and go round, see his grandson, but that wasn't possible. Maybe at the intermission? If there was an intermission in such a show. The waitress came to their table. At least she was dressed normally, white tuxedo shirt, and a black skirt that was neither short nor long. She brought them round a drinks menu with a pleasant smile, very professional. The selection of scotch was surprisingly broad, and he ordered himself a Straith Isla, neat. and considered whether to make it a double. Midas made his order as well, and as soon as the waitress was away he noticed that people were being to be show in.

Gold was actually surprised at the number of couples that were coming in for the show. Certainly he had heard of people taking their significant others to such things but he had always thought it was rather an aberration. But these were well dressed, middle to upper class patrons, sitting around as if this was a regular night out sort of thing. He hid his shock behind a sip of scotch, allowing the alcohol to warm him just a bit.

Mr. Gold was naturally observant, watching everything going on around him as was his habit, a habit that had always kept him safe. So he was more than a little surprised to see a familiar face. Regina Mills-Blanchard was shown to a very special table, and he could see by the way she was fawned over that she was more than a VIP. Gold wondered. He hadn't really kept up with Regina, though he had noted when she married entrepreneur Leopold Blanchard. Leo has been some years her senior. Gold had known him, a good man but hardly what he expected for Regina, more likely it was her mother's idea. There were things that he had admired about Cora, but none of them had to do with how she raised her daughter. He might have said a thing or two while they were together about that, but then Cora had never been interested in anything but money and power, and getting closer to those that had them. Leo had died five or six years back from a snake bite of all thing, taking a walk at their cabin upstate, leaving Regina a very rich widow with a very young stepdaughter. He tried to remember what had happened to the girl...Mary Margaret that was her name, very old fashioned and catholic, like the mother he vaguely remembered meeting once or twice.

"Interesting," Midas said. Clearly he had noticed Regina as well. "You know the family, don't you?" It was a polite question and Gold merely nodded, not wanting to get into a discussion of his private life, which this would no doubt be. He was fairly certain that was what Midas was asking, his relationship with Cora hadn't exactly been a secret, she had been 'separated' from her husband at the time, or so she had told him, on her way to divorce. At least until Henry Mills had begged sufficiently. Perhaps she even would have, had Gold not, by then, discovered that while there were a lot of pleasant things on the surface, Cora's heart was blacker than his own, and that took work. He had no intention of hitching himself to another grasping woman, Bae's mother had been enough. Not that any woman would find herself interested in him for any reason other than his wealth and his power, he thought sourly.

Before his thoughts could descend any lower, the show began. He was rather surprised. It wasn't at all what he expected. There was no pole, no truly lewd displays. Instead it was racy, amusing, titalating rather than what he had seen in strip clubs before. The costumes (and there were actual costumes) were well done, and artistic, and the women had real talent. Some of the acts were outright bawdy, rather like a panto, or what he imagined that Vaudeville had been. But over all it was the difference between a well done love scene in a movie and a porno. He was shocked, amazed and amused all at the same time. Beside him, Midas was also smiling though probably at his daughter's success rather than anything else. Then she came out and he stopped thinking much at all.

The young lady was beautiful, with brilliant blue eyes that he could see even from his seat in the audience. Her hair he couldn't see, as she was wearing what was obviously some kind of wig (or at least he hoped so, human hair really wasn't meant to be that colour that he was aware of) and a costume that appeared to be mostly long blue fringes, rather like those flappers from the 20's. It was probably what she was going for. She, like the girl who had come on first, was introduced simply by her first name ('Lacey', he noticed, completely certain it was a stage name) and after her performance, which was quite short, there was an intermission.

"The last girl is an apprentice," Midas told him. Clearly he had noticed his attention to her. "So was the first one. According to Abigail they are still trying to polish their own acts, working details out. Meanwhile they are here to get the crowd in the right frame of mind."

"Hmmm," Gold responded noncommittally, not wanting his interest to show too much. Besides, it mattered not at all, a young girl like that would never notice an old man, even if he could meet her. It mattered not at all, anyway. After tonight he would never see her again.


	2. Rescuing the fair maiden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold learns many new things and gets involved in a situation.

 

 

 

Robert Gold stood outside on the street corner, a hand rolled cigarette in his hand. He rarely indulged but tonight, well tonight he felt the need. The show had been quite beautiful and he'd had a surprisingly good time. During the intermission they had even spoken briefly and pleasantly with Regina. Neither of them had mentioned her mother, which in itself had added to the pleasantness of the conversation. Then the show had started again. The most surprising act of the evening had involved a young person of Asian origin. He had been shocked, actually, not expecting to see a male strip act, even though he had already come to the realisation that he knew very little about burlesque and most of what he knew had been wrong. He hadn't really expected any of what he had seen, but in for a penny, he thought. There was a party of drunken young men had been offended though, and vocal enough to almost get ejected by a rather intense brown haired and bearded young man who had appeared from somewhere behind them. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, in his personal opinion, he didn't think their presence added anything to the evening) they had settled down in time to see the young man transform into a beautiful young woman.

It had been an interesting performance but he had to admit that no matter how amazing they were, nothing had compared to the startlingly beautiful young woman who had been on only briefly before the intermission. Belle, her name was Belle, terribly appropriate, he thought before chiding himself for behaving like a boy with a crush, When the show had finished, he had Midas had been escorted back stage where they had met the performers and exchanged introductions. with the cast as well as the crew. Graham was young man who had made his presence felt during the performance of the girl who had began dressed at a man. It was still a drag act, the young woman, Mei Luang had explained to him while they were praising his handling of the situation.

Gold had given his sincere praise and congratulations of the evenings performance and managed to excuse himself. He had been invited to join Midas and his daughter, as well as several of the cast members for drinks but had declined. This was more non business related socialising than he had indulged in for years and while he had enjoyed himself far more than he had expected to, he was intensely aware of the differences. No one needed a crippled old man hanging about, certainly not these lively young people, certainly not the young woman that he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of.

 

He was considering whether or not to call for a car or possibly text his son and walk over there when he became aware of the commotion, and only a second after when he was aware of who was involved and already moving. The club was situated in an old building that took up the entire corner of Staunton and Ludlow. An alley opened on to the Ludlow side from the back of the building, and probably the stage/delivery entrance, if his mental map of the layout was correct, but none of that was important at that exact moment. What was important was the beautiful woman he had met earlier who was now being apparently accosted by one of the obnoxious young men from earlier.

"I told you, I'm not..." she said, trying to step away from him.

"Come on, baby, you know you want to...I'll make it worth your while..." The big black haired slab was saying to her as he reached out to take her arm. Even in the relatively poor light at the mouth of the alley, he could see the look of horror and anger on her face.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was beside her, hooking the heavy handle of his cane over the big ox's arm and tugging it away from her. "Is there a problem here, Miss French?" he asked, remembering her last name from their introduction. He was polite, more than, as he turned a look that had been known to make interns cry and international business rivals reconsider a presence in New York City. Unfortunately the young man was both worse for drink and apparently none too bright.

"Thank you," Belle said. "I'm afraid that the...er...gentleman got the wrong idea." There was both recognition and relief in her gaze.

"Get lost, old man, I saw her first," he said angrily. By this time, Gold had carefully positioned himself between them. The lummox may be big and used to using his size to intimidate, but that wasn't going to fly here. Gold had grown up scrapping on the streets of Glasgow, with far more dangerous opponents than this drunken fool, and he knew if it came to it, he had tricks up his sleeve that the other man couldn't begin to imagine, much less anticipate. He was almost looking forward to it.

"That is up to the young lady, boy," he sneered. "Not you. Tickets to the performance do not entitle you to anything more than the pleasure of watching her perform, not to put a hand near her."

"Why don't..." the big man said, drawing back his fist. Gold shifted instantly into a defensive stance, adjusting his weight to allow him maneuverability without too much stress on his ruined leg. But the blow never came. Before it could get any further, a hand came out of the darkness behind him and grabbed the brutes upraised arm, pulling him off balance.

"Problem, Belle?" another voice addressed them from the darkness, this one with a familar Irish lilt belonging to Graham. At a nod from him, the other man twisted the would be assailant into a controlled hold and pushed him back towards Orchard with a warning to go home and sober up. Scowling back at them, the man stumbbled across the street, almost hitting a cab as it turned the corner before heading off grumbling and cursing.

"Not anymore. Thanks, guys. I don't think he will be coming back." Graham nodded.

"If he does, he can just leave again, and I might not remember to open the door first," the other man said as he joined them.

"Too right Fred," Graham said. "I'll even let Regina take the door out of my check. Thanks." He waved goodnight before the two of them turned back down the alley, having established that everything was ok.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Gold," Belle said. Her smile was positively mesmerizing and Gold felt his heart beating faster in his chest. "It doesn't happen often, but sometimes..." she blushed and shrugged at the same time.

"A fool will always be a fool, it's hardly your fault," he said. "It is no matter."

"But it is. I...I'm really glad you were here. You are my hero," she said, giving him a truly beautiful smile of the sort that made it feel as if the sun was shinning a little brighter, even though it was night.

If it were possible, Gold thought, I would probably be blushing like a school boy.

"I... I should be going," she said, glancing vaguely down the street with it's odd mix of closed shops and open bars and restaurants, people huddling in pools of light to talk and smoke. "They are starting track work soon..."

It took him a moment to realise what she was talking about. The subway, of course. He looked down at his watch. Everything in him wanted to volunteer to call a car for her, or offer to put her in a taxi, but somehow he thought that might be misconstrued, especially considering. He didn't want her to put him in the same category as that cretin, but he wasn't comfortable just letting her walk to the train by herself, not after she had been almost assaulted. "May...would you mind if I walked with you?" he asked finally.

"You don't need...you have done more than enough to help me tonight. I hate to put you out."

"It's no matter, really," he said with what he hoped was nonchalance.

"Well, it is kind of a dull walk," she said with a smile.

"Good, shall we, Miss French?" he asked, offering her his arm with a rather old fashioned flourish. She giggled.

"We shall, and please, my name is Belle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who are reading this rather strange little story. The location in the story is a real place and their is a bar there. However there is no resemblance etc... all that disclaimery stuff. All the locations etc, are based on the fact that I live in NYC and decided to use places that I know. The idea of Mulan doing a drag king act just would not go away and so it had to make its way here. There will be more and any prompts or suggestions about additions to the burlesque acts are more than welcome. Meanwhile, please read, comment, etc, because anything that make the muse happy, makes me happy. 
> 
> Note--I may not be updating as much as I would like for the next week or two due to prep for Dragon Con. If any of you are going to be there, drop me a line, we are having OUAT guests, and I alway love getting together with others in the fandom when I am not working (which isn't that often but ehhh...).


	3. What comes next?

 

 

When they arrived at the 2nd Avenue subway station, he had been reluctant to see it end. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, though she certainly was, but she was also intelligent, funny and engaging. And Gold had been absolutely certain that she had only been humouring an old man when she accepted his offer to accompany him. But as she said goodbye she had turned and gave him a hug. Finding her in his arms was shocking and pleasing but over far to quickly as she had rushed off to catch her train. He'd hailed a cab and found himself replaying the moment over and over again.

He wanted to convince himself he had merely enjoyed her company, or tried until he awoke Sunday morning panting and achingly hard from a dream in which she was performing a much more risqué version of her burlesque act for him and him alone. There was nothing for it, and afterward he found himself unable to go back to sleep. Gold found himself restless and unable to focus. When it was late enough, he called his son to see if they wanted to go for brunch.

Sunday brunch was something of a New York tradition and Bae had agreed readily enough, explaining that Emma was working the overnight shift and would be off and hungry in an hour.

After calling for Dove, his regular driver, he started to dress. He had put on a suit, of course, he rarely wore anything else, regardless of occasion, but at the last minute he left off his tie and vest. Bae was always telling him he needed to learn to relax, be more casual and of course there was Henry to consider. His grandson was at the age where he grabbed onto anything and everything with in reach at random and without regard for what it was. The last time the boy had almost strangled him with his own Hermes, trying to use it to climb onto his grandfather's lap. It made him a bit more cautious. He tried to remember if Bae had been like that, but it had been a long time ago, and a time he didn't much care to remember. Instead he turned and left the house.

Gold met is son and grandson sitting outside a new restaurant in SoHo, one that was probably classified as 'trendy' though he paid little or no attention to that kind of thing. The autumn sunshine was warm enough for them to have set up tables outside, and people were taking as much advantage as they could. "Hey Pop, what have you been up to?" Bae asked after collecting a hug and letting him sit. "Striking fear into the heart of the business world?"

He shrugged. "I have a reputation to maintain," he responded, turning to address his grandson who was currently tugging at the arm of his jacket, calling 'granpa, granpa...'

Bae laughed. "I think your grandson is determined to undermine that," he said. "But seriously, Papa, you need to get out more."

"I believe I am out right now," he said. "I am here, sitting in this..." he wrinkled his nose just a little. The whole dining outdoors was not something he was fond of. It reminded him of his childhood, when eating outdoors meant it was probably stolen and they were hiding in an alley trying to eat it before they got caught. His father had always been rubbish, with money, parenting...actually he had just been rubbish and had dumped him off with his mother's sisters.

"Papa, you know what I mean. You need a life, it's been..." he started, pausing when the waitress came by to offer menus, and fill water glasses. It was an old discussion, argument really. He knew his son thought that he was too solitary, too insular. Bae knew, no matter how hard he had tried to hide it. He knew what his mother had been, and why she had left. Except for that rebellious phase as a teenager, he had never blamed him either.

"I don't live in a cave, Bae. I was out Friday night, in fact," he said, turning to his grandson, hoping that was the end of that. Of course at that moment Emma Swan joined them, slumping down in the seat next to Bae, with a tired peck on the cheek for her son, and his.

"Getting out, Gold, you? I don't believe it. Probably some business function. We all know you like to sit home evenings and count your money," Emma said, grabbing the passing waitress for coffee. It might have offended him, if he hadn't know Emma Swan. They had been trading barbs since almost the moment they had met. She was a tough street girl, much like he was, back in the day. They understood each other well. "Who did you go with?"

"In fact, it was Alex Midas..."

"Oh..." Bae said with a smile. "How was the show?" He should have known, of course he should. Bae and Abigail had known each other in school and bonded over family and more specifically wanting something very different. They had gone out once or twice, he thought, but he should have remembered that they were still friends. "We were supposed to go last weekend, but Emma caught a new case so..."

"It was...not what I was expecting," he said trying not to scowl as Emma started laughing.

"Sorry Gold, but I am having a hard time picturing you at a Burlesque show."

"Well, Ms. Swan, there is a first time for everything." And a last, he whispered to himself.

When Gold arrived at the office on Monday, refreshed from time spent with his son and family, (though he would admit, if only to himself, that being tired out by a four year old took his mind off a certain beautiful young woman, if only for a little while), he was in a pleasant mood, at least for him. It was a Monday, and he spent most of the morning on the phone, dealing with things that had come in over the weekend, nothing terribly exciting. He was surprised then, when around noon, a courier brought over a package from Midas. He'd not even gotten the package open when his secretary buzzed to tell him that the man himself was on the phone.

"Didn't know you were the hero type, Gold," Midas said jovially before he could even say a word.

"The villain more like, what are you on about?" Gold asked as pulled out the letter opener. "Care to tell me what is in the package?"

"That is a 'thank you' from my daughter and one of her cast. What is this I hear about you rescuing one of the dancers from a drunken fan?"

"T'was nothing, really," he said, not particularly interested in discussing the incident.

"Yeah, you have never had any difficulty intimidating people. I gather the girl was the one that so captivated you earlier," the younger man said with just a hint of suggestion. Gold knew he needed to shut him down immediately before this spread.

"I was engaged in a filthy habit, but not that one. I wanted a cigarette before I went to flag down a cab. I was finishing up when one of those drunken fools that almost got chucked out earlier decided to accost the girl while she was leaving. I did what anyone else would do," he said, brushing it off. Really he wanted to get this phone call over, though he was rather curious what was in the package. Probably just a pleasant note, but that was hardly worth a messenger, though thinking about it, Abigail had probably used her father's.

"Well, good thing for her then," Alex said, but before he could tease him further and cause him to say something unpleasant, he heard someone else in the background. "Well, looks like I have an appointment. Lunch later in the week?" he asked. It wasn't unusual for the two men to lunch together along with the few other colleagues that didn't make him want to do something unfortunate, but right now Gold thought it best to avoid him.

"Perhaps," he said vaguely and rang off. As soon as he set down the phone (he'd never got the hang of those bluetooth devices, like a plug in the ear), he picked up the package. It was flat, probably an envelope. Perhaps if he was lucky there would be a note from Belle, after all, she probably had no other way to get in touch with him, even if she wanted to, which he doubted very much. But he opened it anyway. Inside he found envelopes, two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and I am glad you are enjoying it. This chapter is a little bit filler maybe, but I promise there is more action to come. Please keep up the comments and kudos, suggestions and prompts are welcome. If I'm a little slow, blame the run up to Dragon con.


	4. A Second Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was in the envelopes, and a surprise.

 

 

Robert Gold had seen and done a lot of things in his life, and he probably would do a lot more. But he had certainly never expected to find himself in a different club on another Friday night waiting for another Burlesque show to start. Or the same show, he wasn't actually certain, to be honest. The package that had arrived on Monday had contained two envelopes, the first a pair of tickets to tonight's performance and a note of thanks from Abigail Midas. That he could have ignored, in fact his first inclination had been to either send the tickets back with a polite note, or pass them on. It was the second envelope that made that impossible. That envelope had contained a heart felt and well written (handwritten at that) thank you from Belle, the young woman he had been unable to get out of his thoughts. In the note she had expressed her desire to see him at the performance. There had been no way to respond to her, there was no address included, and while he could have looked her up, it felt like an invasion of privacy. Besides, it was easy enough to just attend, it wasn't as if he had other plans. He would go, watch them dance, and then, having thanked her for her lovely note and seeing that she would have discharged whatever obligation she felt to him, they would go their separate ways. Not that he felt the least bit as if she was obligated to him, but he understood that if she did, it would make her uncomfortable if the books remained unbalanced.

So for all of those reasons, he found himself in this...club. It wasn't as upscale as Regina's establishment, the feel much more modern, less vintage more...he wasn't certain exactly what to call it. The same young woman had greeted him with he arrived, early of course, because he preferred to have a good look around when he was in a strange place, a habit from his misspent youth. "Mr. Gold, so good to see you again," the young woman said with a smile. "Belle told us all about what you did for her. We have a table set aside for you right up front," she said, leading him to a small table with a 'Reserved VIP' tag on a stand in the middle. "I'll just go in the back and tell Belle that you are here. I'm Ashleigh, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you." He wanted to tell her it wasn't necessary, he wanted to tell her not to make a fuss, but the girl was already heading into the back, and Gold was wishing he had decided to send his refusal. Robert Gold was not a man who liked being the center of attention, he preferred to be behind the scenes, pulling the strings. It's why his picture was rarely if ever in the paper, despite his wealth. Leave the publicity to Trump and Midas, even Kenneth Irons, as long as everyone knew where the real power lay. But apparently there was nothing he could do about this. It wasn't a feeling he was comfortable with. Robert sighed, and ordered a (second rate at that) scotch from the waitress, hoping that this would be over quickly. Perhaps he could leave during the interval.

A moment later, all of his thoughts went straight out the window. A face appeared from behind the side curtain, a familiar, beautiful face. Their eyes met for a moment, and all thought of leaving fled. Her eyes locked with his, and she smiled, before allowing her eyes to sweep the room. Having established that he was the first to arrive, she slipped through the curtain. She was wearing a dressing gown that was far to big for her wrapped tightly around her small body, and her hair was pulled back tightly, held with a band.

"I am so glad you came," Belle said, and she leaned forward and offered him an impulsive hug. She seemed a very tactile person, something he wasn't generally comfortable with. But the somehow, this woman was nothing that he expected. Belle was young, beautiful in an unpolished way, in short, everything that the women he usually met weren't. Perhaps that was what was driving his fascination.

"I had no other plans," he said dismissively. "But it was hardly necessary."

"Of course it was, you were my hero. Besides, this is a different venue, we have never performed here before, and..." she leaned forward as if whispering a secret. "I'm a bit nervous, to tell the truth. It will be nice to know there is a friendly face in the audience." She blushed just a little and then bit her lip, as if she was revealing something incredibly personal, which, he thought, she could be.

Robert knew very little about what was normal for performers, he had never had time for such things when he was younger, and his son had never had an interest in the performing arts. "Well, I am glad to be of assistance," he said. He was trying to put a little distance between them, not knowing how to react to her. Honestly, he wasn't certain how to respond to her. They weren't flirting, not exactly, but at the same time, he had felt a kind of instant connection to her the other night, which wasn't something that he had ever experienced before. In fact, he wasn't certain he believed in such things. It was too preposterous, but he hadn't stopped him from accepting her invitation, nor had it prevented him from having several impossible dreams of her, the sort that he thought he was long past.

The waitress returned with his drink and Belle left him quickly, saying something about having to finish getting ready, and not wanting to be seen at the front of the house. Behind him, he heard the young lady, Ashleigh, she had called herself, showing more people in, probably others with advance tickets, friends or family. He was a little startled when Regina Mills addressed him. She was dressed in all black as usual, blood red lipstick, her dar hair caught up on top of her hair in a pair of antique combs. "Gold, this is a surprise, I wasn't thinking that this was your scene, not near stuffy enough," she said smiling, more or less.

"I would say the same of you. I'm surprised you left your little castle," he said, rising politely. Since their encounter the other week he admitted he had been poking around a little. That Regina had been the well known burlesque performer (or well known in burlesque circles at least) that Abigail had mentioned, he had deduced as much. But that after Leo Blanchard's death, she had mostly withdrawn from the social scene, he had not been. Not that he blamed her, he certainly avoided it as much as he could. Though he did wonder how much of that was a complete rejection of the life her mother had chosen for her. He didn't hate Regina, nor she him, but there was a certain amount of awkwardness when dealing with the woman that had almost been his step daughter, especially when as far as he knew, neither of them were speaking to her. Robert, in fact, had not a clue where she was, save that she was not active in the New York social scene, and that only because he did his best to avoid her.

"I don't get out much," she admitted, with a little bit of a smile. In it, he could almost see the young girl she had been before her mother hardened her. "But they impressed me last week. I'm considering booking them in a regular act, and thought I ought to see more of what they can do. And you? Midas isn't with you this time, I see. I rather thought he was responsible for you turning up at my place." Beside her, the young woman who had been seeing her to her seat cleared her throat just a little. "Oh, you can run along, dear," Regina said dismissively. "Gold and I are old...friends, I think we can probably share the table," she said. "Unless you are expecting someone else?"

Gold wasn't certain what she was playing at, or perhaps she just didn't want to sit alone. It wasn't a dive, but this was hardly the same caliber as her own place. Gold nodded his assent to Ashleigh and the girl shrugged and left the two of them together. "Now, what is it you want Regina?" he asked, as soon as she had gone back through the curtain out the door.

"My, suspicious aren't we?" she said. Gold merely shrugged. "Very well, two things, I hate sitting by myself at these things, but Sidney had to cancel at the last moment," she told him.

"Still holding his leash, dearie?" he asked, possibly more sharply than he should have. "That one is still a snake, and likely to bite your hand one of these days." Sidney Glass had attended the same school as both Regina and Bae. Even back then he had been a sneaky little weasel. The devotion, as least he assumed it was devotion, to Regina had come along after she had helped him out of a rather unfortunate situation he had gotten himself into. He'd certainly been dancing attendance to her as long as Gold could remember, and he knew for a fact that the man had done any number of tasks for her that she wouldn't want to get her hands dirty with.

"And you are better," she responded "that is an old argument, and neither here nor there."

"So, that is one, what is the other?" Gold prompted, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And, I..." she looked around, trying to appear as if she was just examining the decor, of which there wasn't a great deal. But he had known Regina since before she reached her teens, and he knew she was scanning the room to make sure they were not overheard. "I wondered if you had heard anything about my mother," she said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this story is back and another twist presented itself. I am home from DragonCon, and more or less well so back to writing, and with some new perspectives for this story. I blame Sternel, Wonkyfeint and Eve, you know why.


	5. Not Living in the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Gold talk a little about the past, and he looks for a future.

It took Gold a moment. He had neither heard nor seen Cora in years, quite deliberately and he was certain that Regina felt as he did. It gave him pause What exactly was she expecting. from him, he wondered. They had never discussed his relationship with Cora, not since he had been in that relationship, and then only once. It had been awkward as hell, especially as his own son was a few years younger and they were at the same school, though they had not known each other well. He tried to ignore the memories, he had spent the years since trying to forget everything about Cora and his relationship with her. "Not in years, nor do I care to," he said carefully.

He knew that Regina's relationship with her mother had always been...awkward, especially after her father's death in somewhat strange circumstances. That there had been questions about both Leo and Henry's deaths had made him glad that he'd got out with a whole skin to be honest. Gold would never have put it past her, he would put very little past Cora, but he was fairly certain that the curious deaths were one of the reasons she had relocated to Europe shortly after her daughter was widowed. It made him wonder what she wanted. With Cora there was always something. She had come to him after Henry's death. But he wasn't one to make the same mistake twice and there was no doubt that Cora had been a mistake. She fed the darkness in him, coming along as she did when he was in the midst of an ugly custody battle with his ex wife, Milah. Bae had been away spending his summer on a court mandated visit with her and her lover, and Cora, well she was there. The second time she came to hime, he had turned her down flat, despite her obvious charms. Gold had no doubts about his appearance, and if he had, his ex wife would have put any of them to rest. He dragged himself out of those dark thought and back to the waitress putting their drinks on the table.

"I'm not certain, but I've...been keeping tabs on her," Regina said delicately. Regina was generally up front, one of the things he had appreciated about her, so the fact that she was hedging was suggestive.

"And you think she is coming back with a plan," he said. It wasn't a question. If Cora was coming back, she had something in mind, and there were two people she would be interested in involving, or possibly getting revenge against.

"You know my mother," she said with a shrug.

"Then I think you for the warning. I will watch my back." Regina nodded, and turned to her drink, clearly judging the quality as inferior to her own establishment.

Gold was surprised to find that Regina made an interesting and informative companion. She had given him a bit of a background, explained the different styles, ('this is a gothic show, I prefer more classic, vintage style myself, like what you say last week') and generally provided him with a history of the art form. And it was an art form, though he wasn't certain he cared for this set of performances as much as he had the last. The first act, for example, was a girl with the stage name of 'Scarlet Lalupa'. She had a red streak in her hair (he remembered meeting her last week and he thought her name might actually be Ruby or something equally as colourful), and a slinky black outfit, with a set of pearly white fangs, who performed to a rather jazzy song about a vampire. He supposed it worked for some people, clearly the crowd was enjoying it, and it was quite crowded. It wasn't quite as...sedate as the last crowd. As they came in, he saw more groups, and fewer couples, but it was still a mixed audience, and only slightly more rowdy. At least this time they were spared the group of drunks that had almost been asked to leave before. Still, Gold really didn't find it as appealing and he said so.

Regina laughed. "Why am I not surprised," she whispered back, with a genuine smile, a rarity for her. But he noticed that she was actually enjoying herself. This was what Regina truly loved. Not the life that her mother would have wanted for her, but then that was true of all of their children. He smiled. As much as he would never admit it, bad for his dark image, he liked Regina, liked her enough that he had wished her the best. Gold wasn't one for self reflection, but he couldn't help wondering how different things would have been if he and Cora had stayed together. Of course, on reflection, it would have probably destroyed him, his relationship with his son, who had never liked her, and possibly gotten him killed so best that things had gone as they did.

At the intermission, Abigail had come out from the back and seemed surprised to see the two of them sitting together. "Why waste the table?" Regina had said dismissively. "Gold and I go way back." She had then suggested a discussion later about contracts and Abigail returned to her place behind the stage.

When the show was over, they were invited backstage, and Gold had offered Regina his arm in politeness if nothing else. The backstage area was also a far cry from Regina's club and he could see her mouth turn down in disgust. There was really nothing but a big open area and dancers in various stages of dress (or undress). He had carefully averted his eyes, especially when one of the dancers rushed by in nothing but the makeup on her face, a robe thrown casually over her shoulder.

"Oh, hello, I didn't realise that you had brought a date," the soft voice made his heart drop to his shoes, and he resisted dropping Regina's arm like a live wire. It sounded almost as if she were disappointed and he wanted desperately to look at her, but he wasn't certain what her state of dress was, and...well, it wouldn't be right.

"Date? Hardly, dear," Regina said, looking the young dancer up and down. "Abigail," she called, "Perhaps we could..." she took the other woman's arm. "Thank you for letting me share the table, Gold," she called over her shoulder as she walked off with the other woman, but there was a hint of speculation in her eyes. Abigail would straighten her out, he was certain.

"Regina and I have known each other for some time, and her...companion was unable to make it," he said, clarifying the situation though he didn't know why he was bothering. It wasn't as if the girl was interested in him, certainly not in that way. She was just grateful for his intervention the other night.

"That was very nice of you, Mr..." she started.

"I believe I told you to call me 'Robert,' " he told her. Suddenly he found a small hand on his cheek, turning him from where he had been looking at the details of the curtains (a bit threadbare and moth eaten but who would see it) to meet bright blue eyes.

"And you can look at me, Robert," she said quietly. Belle still had her hair piled up though less neatly than it had been, and she was wearing a light blue shirt over a blue jean skirt. "I'm already dressed." She smiled at him, and he might have blushed if he was still capable. She was beautiful. He tried not to stare, but really he didn't know what to say. She smiled.

"So..." Gold started but was interupted as the woman with the red streaked hair bounced up to the two of them. She was also wearing clothes, something for which he was grateful but was hardly dressed with Belle's...restraint. The shirt was tight and low cut and she had added a very short skirt that showed almost as much leg as her stage costume.

"Hey Belle, we're going out for some drinks to celebrate, want to join us. You can come too, Mr. Gold," she added as an afterthought. She was looking back and forth between them as if she wasn't exactly certain what to make of them.

Of course, there was nothing to make of it, there was nothing going on. But even as the thought crossed his mind, Belle looked at him. The look was almost pleading and she shook her head slightly. "I appreciate the offer," he said. "But I'm afraid that I already asked Miss French to join me for a late supper." He hoped beyond hope that he was reading her signals right, reading people came in handy in his daily life, but for something more personal his skills were rusty.

"Yes, sorry Ruby, but you know how hungry I get," Belle said to her friend. Her shoulders had relaxed and he was feeling just a bit more confident. Of course she didn't want to have dinner with him, of that he was certain. But for a moment he could dream. He stood quietly while she hugged the other girl and promised to see her later and watched as she bounced off to join Mei Leung and two other members of the troupe who he had not met.

"You don't have to..." they both said at the same time. Laughing, he gestured for her to go first.

"You don't really have to take me to dinner, I just didn't really feel like going out drinking. Ruby is one of my best friends, but it's not really my scene," Belle said.

"I was about to say that you didn't need to feel obligated to join me," he told her.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't... I mean, I would love to have dinner with you," she stammered just a little, tripping over the words with a pretty blush. "Sorry, I am saying this badly. Frankly, I'm starving. I can't eat before performing. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to rescue me again."

"It's no matter," Robert said, with what he hoped was a charming smile. "I missed my dinner as well. Besides, I hate eating alone." It wasn't exactly a lie, after all, who enjoyed eating alone? Though he took most of his meals in a solitary fashion and tended to pay them very little mind.

"Good, neither do I. Shall we?" she asked. Gold smiled at her. Of course it was nothing but a friendly dinner, two people who didn't want to be alone, but it was certainly more than he ever expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like all my stories, everything has been held up due to life. Still, I hope to get more written soon, on all of my stories. If you are enjoying this story, please comment, it keeps the muse and the author happy. 
> 
> The song mentioned for Ruby's act is "The Vampire" by Solace and Fury, if you want to give it a listen.


	6. Late night Diner

 

 

They ended up in a small diner not terribly far from the club. It wouldn't necessarily have been his first choice, but unlike Regina's club, this one was not in an area that lent itself to fine dining, in fact, it lent itself more to bars that restaurants full stop. Besides, he was still being cautious Robert had found himself absolutely gobsmacked when she had actually accepted the invitation he had extended more out of instinct that anything else. Still, accept she had, and he was not a man to turn down good fortune.

He was not surprised by the conversation. If last week had taught him anything, it was that she was easy to talk to. "So how did you end up in America?" she had asked soon after they had slid into the booths, waiting for the menus.

It wasn't a story he told often, in fact, he rarely talked about his past, the Glasgow streets, working his way through law school, the difficulty when he had discovered a knack for business law that had him fighting a different kind of battle with a lot of the same people he had grown up with. Nor had he been able to forgive or forget the way they looked at him. But she didn't need to know all that. "I had a good offer," he said. "I'd no family but my wife and son, by that time, and a knack for makin' money, isn't that what most people come to America for?" he told her with a smile that hid a multitude of sins. "But what about you? Australia's a bit far." The waitress dropped off a pair of menus, glasses of water, and then left them to it.

"My mother got sick," she said. "Papa had a job in the city government, but he wanted her to have the best treatment. He sold up everything and moved us here. They were working on a treatment for her illness at Massachusetts General Hospital. That's about it. They bought a florist shop in a small town in Maine, Storybrooke, it's called. Mum had been a florist before, though my Da's not bad at it."

"Why not live in Boston, surely..." Robert asked.

"Mum wasn't keen. She was raised on a sheep station, never got the hang of big cities. Going to the hospital was hard enough on her," Belle said, looking down at the menu. It didn't take a lot of social sensitivity to figure out how the story ended.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, opening his menu as well.

"No, I am. We are supposed to be having a pleasant dinner. What looks good to you?"

A few minutes later, after the ritual of ordering, they were back to the dance of getting to know each other. "So how did you end up performing with the burlesque troupe?" he asked as they waited for hamburgers, something he had not eaten in a very long time.

"It was something a fell into more or less by accident," Belle told him. "Ruby and I rooomed together in college. Well, I'm still in college, but I'm not a performer, professional or otherwise. Ruby, she's a proper dancer. She was trying to broaden her skill set so she started taking classes at the New York School of Burlesque. She really enjoys it, and she got me to take some classes as well. When she started working with Xotic, she more or less dragged me along. To tell the truth," she said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "I'm a bit shy."

"I hadn't noticed," he said, trying for careful neutrality. "You are not a professional dancer, then," he asked. He had been certain that was the goal for all of the dancers he'd ever known or seen but perhaps not.

"No, not at all." She laughed. "I couldn't do it, I've not got the skill or the temperament. I'm a graduate student, Fashion history and textile restoration/curation over at FIT. The performing is more of a hobby for me, Ruby says I don't get out enough. Astrid's the same. Well, not a performer anyway, but she's actually brilliant with costumes. She also helps with the repairs and things. Besides, she is dating the guy who works as our kind of one man stage crew, roadie and occasional bouncer. I don't think you met Leroy, he's pretty busy when the show ends and a little anti social with people he doesn't know."

Gold just nodded as their food arrived and the conversation wandered once more. She really was a bright girl, who could talk intelligently on a wider variety of subjects. He was surprised to find that they had similar taste in art and found himself inviting her to join him for brunch and a member's preview at the Met on Sunday, a preview he had not particularly been planning on attending before he opened his mouth. That Belle agreed made him far happier than it should have. Actually the entire evening had been far more pleasant than he'd ever imagined.

He found himself looking out the window into the dark and light of the New York City night, while she went to the Ladies, allowing his thoughts to wander. It was nothing, he tried to tell himself, just two people who happened to enjoy one another's company. Gold was certain she wasn't the sort of grasping woman that he had more than once had to shake off, chasing his money and his name. No, this was just a rather nice young lady who he shared a love of art with, nothing more, nothing less. Trying to keep these thoughts firmly in mind, he was distracted by something across the street. For a moment he thought he saw someone silhouetted by a passing car in the alley across the street. But when Robert looked again, the figure was gone.

Probably someone trying to decide whether or not the diner looked promising, he tried to tell himself. Still there was something about it that left him a little unsettled, an instinct. He had learned long ago the importance of listening to his instincts.

"Something interesting out there," Belle asked as she returned to the table.

"Not particularly," he said as he rose. "Shall we?" he offered her a hand with her coat. There was, as he expected, a bit of a sputter about his paying the check, she was the type of girl that would try to pay her own way, but he waved her off, saying that he had invited her, and it was, therefore his check.

The two of them bickered amicably about it as they left the diner and went out into the night. It took a bit more discussion before he convinced her to allow him to put her in a taxi. "The trains will be running more slowly, and it is my fault that you are out so late," he said. Robert had thought about having Dove take her home first, but it felt like that might by a step too far.

"Very well, but I can pay for my own taxi," she said.

"I am certain you can, but as I said, it is my fault. Please, allow me to at least pretend to be a gentleman?" he asked giving her his most persuasive smile,

"You are a gentleman," Belle told him.

"Shhhh, wouldn't want it to get out, not that anyone would believe you."

"That is their problem," she said. The taxi came to a stop beside them. "I know the truth," she whispered as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Moments later the taxi was on its way, and his driver was coming around the corner to collect him and drive him home.

In the dark, a figure took note of the taxi number, and the license plate of the other car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit short, but I think that the next post is going to up the rating a bit, so please be patient with me. I hope you are enjoying this and please remember to comment, it makes the muse so very happy.
> 
> Just a few notes--  
> The New York School of Burlesque is a real thing, as are all night diner's if you happen to live in New York or are visiting, you can look it up (the school, the diners are far easier to find). 
> 
> FIT is also a real thing, standing for Fashion Institute of Technology, as is the degree that Belle is studying for in this story, though not as well known as they are for their fashion design program. 
> 
> The usual disclaimers apply


	7. Dreams and realities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a comment by Oncer4life69Dearie. Not exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it.

 

 

The room was dark except for the fire in the fireplace, and the light that fell on a small stage that was completely out of place in the old fashioned paneled library. In the chair the man sat, a glass in one hand and all his attention focused on the woman on the stage. She had a blue panel skirt on below a sheer blue bead and net cover, that didn't hide a great deal save to call attention to the shadows beneath. The woman began to move, twisting to look over her shoulder at the man in the dark. The top slipped easily down her arms to land with a dull thud at her feet. Beneath it the short gold and bead bustier twinkled in the spotlight. The music was all wrong for both the room and the dance, and the woman was trying desperately to find the right rhythm as she peeled the elbow length blue gloves from her small hands, tossing one of them to the man in the chair who was the only audience for this private show. He caught it, brought it to his lips, dark eyes burning even in the shadows.

On the stage, which was much closer than usual, the woman turned and rolled slightly, unfastening the blue panel skirt, still trying to keep time with the music, which was familiar but had never been meant for this purpose. The skirt slithered to the floor and the man let out a sharp breath. Beneath the skirt was a pair of gold french knickers, the edges of the ruffles trimmed in gold spangles and beads.

The man in the chair was breathing harder, and he reached out a hand towards the woman. "Come closer, dearie," he whispered hoarsely. She reached out and took his hand and he pulled her down, right into his lap, his lips coming down to...

 

Belle French woke with a pounding heart and a warm familiar ache between her legs and growled in frustration. It wasn't the first erotic dream she'd had since she met Robert Gold. The fact that she couldn't particularly remember having them before him where as they had become an almost nightly occurrence in the slightly more than a week since she had met him did not help at all. It wasn't even that he had come to her rescue when that moron had accosted her behind the club. If she was honest, she had felt something from the first moment she had met him back stage with Abigail's father. There was something about these deep brown eyes, the longish dark hair...just everything about him caused her stomach to churn and that warm tickle even lower. It didn't hurt that he was intelligent, interesting and not conceited. She had genuinely enjoyed having dinner with him Friday night.

"And now," she thought looking at the clock beside her bed that showed it was almost five in the morning. There wasn't a lot of point in going back to sleep even if she thought she could. Instead she had two choices, to take care of that little ache herself, or take a cold shower and try to pretend that she wasn't entirely too attracted to Robert Gold. After a certain amount of deliberation, she decided on the cold shower, after all she wasn't sure she could face him now without blushing, that would only make it worse. "It's not like he is interested in me in that way," she told herself as she dragged her way out of the bed towards the tiny shower, praying that the water wasn't too icy. "He's just being nice. After all what could he possibly see in me? He's just interested in being nice," she told herself as she stepped into the small stall. Then some tea, maybe a little work. Plus there was getting ready for brunch. She was fairly certain that it would take far longer than it ought to for her to figure out what to wear.

 

Robert Gold stood at the top of the large granite stairs that formed the front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and checked his watch carefully. He'd considered the side entrance, it wasn't as crowded, but it also wasn't as easy a place to meet, and the last thing he had wanted to do was remind her of his...disability. It wasn't as if she was late yet, rather that he was early. Of course, he had a driver, where as she was subject to the vagaries of the New York subway system, and on a Sunday at that. Surely she wasn't going to stand him up, though perhaps she was. But he couldn't picture Belle as the sort. He cursed himself for not offering to have the car come get her but a moment later decided that it was best he hadn't. It would have been stepping over a line, he was fairly certain. He had to be careful, make sure the boundaries were maintained. First he wouldn't want her to ever think that she had to repay his original...kindness, (if you could call separating a young lady from a moron a kindness rather than a public service). It wouldn't do for her to discover... right now she probably thought him just a nice old man who shared an interest in art. There was no way that she would be anything but disgusted at his true feelings. After all, what young woman of her age could possibly be interested in him. She was probably his son's age, and while he and Milah had Bae young, that still left her close to twenty years younger than he, maybe more.

Part of him was disgusted with himself, felt like some kind of pervert for the sort of things that filled his dreams with her. But then, despite what she thought, he wasn't a nice man, or a good one for that matter. Still, if being her friend was all he ever got, it was more than what he deserved and he would guard it as jealously as a dragon with it's treasure.

"Robert." he heard, just in time. His thoughts had been getting rather dark, something not particularly unusual with him. There she was, bouncing up the steps to meet him. Belle was wearing a nice blouse and skirt, much to his relief. He wasn't exactly certain how to dress to meet a young lady for lunch and the museum, especially in the sort of vague area of friendship they were currently occupying. "I hope I'm not late," she said as she reached where he was standing and leaned up for a kiss on the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, but hope you enjoy it. I do except prompts, music and other suggestions. The song I was thinking of when I wrote the first part is Belle and Sebastian's 'I'm not living in the real world', which is both appropriate and not. Questions, comments, creative insults? Please let me know. We all know the muse loves to hear from you.


	8. Sunday at the Museum with Belle

 

 

Gold felt his breath stop as she pressed her lips against his cheek, resisting the temptation to turn his head just enough to feel her lips against his, even unintentionally. She really was quite a tactile person, and he reminded himself that he was going to have to get used to it if he wanted to spend time with her.

"I hope you've not been waiting long. I planned extra time for the train but it was forever coming," she said brightly. "I hope, I hope you don't mind that I brought my notebook, there might be..." she started.

"Not at all," he said noting for the first time the tote bag that she held over her arm, what looked like a ball of yarn and knitting needles sticking out of the top. She followed his eyes.

"It's a scarf for my father. He loses them. But it gives me something to do on the train."

"I'm just a bit surprised. I didn't know people knit much anymore."

"Oh yes, it's really popular. There is even a big internet site called Ravelry, devoted to fiber arts. I learned for a class in textile techniques and I stuck with it," she said with a shrug. "I find it gives me something to do on the train, besides," Belle said, leaning in as if whispering a secret. "If I read, I get caught up in the story. I've missed my transfer, or forgotten to get off at the right stop. Once I almost ended up at Fort Tryon." At the admission she blushed in what he thought was the most endearing fashion.

"There is nothing wrong at all with getting lost in a good book. I've certainly done it more than enough myself. Though depending where and when, it could be a bit awkward on the subway. Enjoying reading is nothing to be embarrassed by. I find it charming," Robert told her. Then preceded to kick himself. Charming, did he really say that? God, how patronizing, you sound a fool, he thought to himself. "Shall we go in?" he asked quickly before he said anything else stupid. "Would you prefer to view the exhibit first, or eat," he asked, turning to continue up the stairs. Belle started to join him, turned a bit too quickly and some combination of heels and stair had her losing her balance. With no thought, save Belle, he reached for her, pulling her hard against him and away from the edge to avoid what would have no doubt been at the very least an unpleasant fall.

"Belle, are you?" he asked as soon as he was certain she was steady in his arms.

"Fine. You saved me, again. This is getting to be a habit," she said as she smiled up at him. For a moment he lost himself in her deep blue eyes and the feel of her soft body against him. He could smell her floral perfume filling his nostrils, and for just a moment he was tempted to kiss her. It was as if the world stood still. Gold bent his head just a little.

Then a horn blared on Fifth Avenue and the spell was broken. He released her gently, double checking that she was steady on her feet. "Perhaps we should eat first," he said. "Wouldn't want you to take a tumble from hunger," Robert said gently.

"I would love to blame my blood sugar for that and not my natural clumsiness but I'm afraid it's all me. But getting off these steps is definitely a good idea." He offered her the arm not occupied with his cane, and she accepted it with a smile. Her hand seemed to burn through the wool of his suit, and he knew he needed to be very careful as they made their way to the entrance.

"Come, you cannot tell me that you are clumsy. I've seen you dance, remember?"

"You've got it backwards, I'm afraid. The other reason for Ruby encouraging me to take dance classses was because I am so very clumsy. In fact, I had fallen, tripped and otherwised bruised myself so often that Ruby was afraid people would wonder about my private life. I'm much better now, believe it or not," she grinned at him. "Ruby thinks that my shyness was part of it."

"You seem fine to me," he reassured her. Inside the voice that sounded remarkably like his father sneered at him.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she teased, giving him a little curtsy now that they were on the landing. He returned her a bow, thinking briefly that he should feel silly, especially in public and wondering why he didn't. With Belle by his side, he just couldn't.

"I think you were right about food, though," she told him. "I got woken up quite early, and then started studying. I've only had tea," Belle told him. For some reason, she was blushing as she said it, reminding him of why he had been awake entirely too early this morning.

He needed a moment, he realised to get his thoughts back under control. "Very well, I will get our tags," he said, pulling a post card from the inside pocket of his jacked and preceding her through security, heading toward the membership desk while she was busy opening her tote and purse for security to look through. It took a relatively few moments, he had both of their stickers by the time she was finished stuffing her knitting back into the bag. With her permission, he carefully placed the little purple sticker with the white M in the middle on her blouse over her heart. He was perhaps a tad too careful positioning it. Gold was bitterly regretting that the museum had gone to stickers instead of the old metal studs that clipped to the collar. Then he stood very still, allowing her to place his on the lapel of his jacket. Like going to brunch with his son, he had aimed for casual, which for him meant not wearing a tie and opening a couple of buttons at the top, but only two. If he was to spend more time with Belle, he though he might just have to bite his tongue and ask Bae for help. Assuming that she would allow him to spend more time with her, which he reminded himself wasn't a certain thing by any means.

Gold led her past security and up the grand staircase to where they had set up brunch on the Grand Balcony overlooking the hall. They did it occasionally, usually special occasions, and as a contributor, it was easy enough for him to secure seats. It didn't have Palm Court Terrace's view of the park, but neither did it have the noise or the crowds and more than made up with it, the menu today put together by the chef who operated The New Leaf up at Fort Tryon, another place he would have to see if he could convince Belle to go with him.

The crowd wasn't large, and fortunately for him, even fewer of them were familiar. At the moment, he didn't want to be Robert Gold, the Beast of the New York business world, he just wanted to be Belle's friend Robert, two people out for a nice brunch together. He scanned the room as the hostess lead them to a seat. In one corner, Kenneth Irons, looking like he was doing much the same, only with his young daughter. They nodded, acknowledgement of each other's presence and their mutual desire not to notice each other. Closer to the bannister, a young lawyer who actually worked for Robert was looking as if he wanted to find the closest exit, dragging his girlfriend or whatever she was with him. Gold made a study of completely ignoring the man, following the hostess to a quiet corner against the wall surrounded by pot plants and near where a string court was playing classical music just loud enough to be heard. He nodded his approval to the hostess, who promptly made herself scarce, and held Belle's chair for her before seating himself with his back to the wall. The table gave an excellent view of Belle, as well as the rest of the room and their fellow diners. It was a good start, he thought as he turned his attention to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who are still reading this. Like all of my stories it suffered from last month, but NaNoWriMo is over and I'm back. I have really enjoyed the comments and kudos, please keep them coming. 
> 
>  
> 
> A couple of notes. Ravelry is a real thing, as is knitting on the subway (and missing your stop because you got so engrossed in a book, ask me how I know). Fort Tryon Park is the park in which The Cloisters, otherwise known as the home to a large part of Metropolitan Museum's Medievel and Rennaisssance collection, and one of my favourite places in the world, sits. Also home to the New Leaf Restaurant, which is also real and really really good. For those not familiar with New York City geography, it is at the far north of Manhattan Island, about a subway stop or two (depending on which end of the park and how far you want to walk) from leaving the Island.


	9. Unwelcome interuptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it seems that everyone wanted a day at the museum.

 

 

Brunch went by with only one bobble, one that he should have seen coming and had cursed himself for missing. They had been seated and he was admittedly torn between looking over the menu and continuing to look at Belle. But suddenly something wasn't right. Belle opened her menu, and her face fell.

"Belle, what is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Its...nothing," she said a little more quietly. He looked at his own menu. She wasn't a vegetarian or into any of the newfangled dietary restrictions as far as he knew. She'd eaten a hamburger with him just the other night with not a blink, still he studied the menu, trying to see what she was seeing. "I'll just have the salad. I'm not that hungry," she said apologetically, setting down the menu. Now he knew she was lying to him, and he didn't like it. His first response was to shout at her, but she wasn't some intern who'd dropped the files on the floor and then told him they'd not, this was Belle, and something was bothering her.  
"What is it? Please." He gave her a sincere look and she flushed with embarrassment. But she was a brave thing, he'd give her that, brave enough to come out with the monster in public. Looking into her eyes, he could see her warring with herself.

Belle looked around and then leaned forward, making certain no one would hear her. "I can't really afford to eat here. I mean, I expected it to be expensive, but..."

Gold wanted to laugh in relief but that would most definitely be the wrong reaction. "You don't have to worry about that, Belle. I invited you here, and I'll have the bill. Eat what you like, but I would recommend the hot chocolate with lavender marshmallows."

"I can't keep letting you pick up the check," she said, a little agitated.

"Consider me old fashioned, if you like, or just old. But when I invited you, I had no intention of letting you pay. Why don't we call it being supportive of starving college students?"

"You are not old, and you make it sound like I'm a social cause," she laughed. "This time," Belle told him, giving him a sharp look. "But I am going to have to ask you to go somewhere with me and let me pay."

"Very well, another time. Now, what would you like to eat?" he said vaguely. He was thrilled, perhaps a littlle more than was warranted. Belle wanted to spend more time with him or had at least suggested that she would volunteer for it.

After brunch they made there way to the preview. Essentially it was a special showing, allowing members to view new exhibits before they were open to the public. The museum was not crowded or not for the Met on a relatively early Sunday afternoon, and the joy of coming to the preview was seeing it before it was crowded. In this case it was an exhibit on the textiles of the old Silk Road, which he had known would specifically appeal to her. He would admit he preferred some of the other galleries, but he was surprised not only by how much he enjoyed the exhibition, but by Belle's depth of knowledge, which he had encouraged her to share.

"Is this the sort of thing you will be doing when you finish school?" Gold asked as they reached the exit.

"I hope so. I will find out where I am doing my internship at the end of the semester," she said as they made their way through the inevitable gift shop annex that was set up at the exits of these things. Belle's eyes glowed at the offerings, all related to the exhibition, but turned away, and excused herself to the ladies.

He looked around while he was waiting. The man was almost certain she would want any or all of the books there, and equally certain after earlier that she would never accept the gift. After due consideration (and desperately ignoring a silk scarf that he wanted desperately to drape around her delicate throat), he settled on a copy of the exhibition guide. It was inexpensive and he could call it a souvenir. He tucked the bag under his arm and waited for her to return, contemplating their next move. With any luck, they could wander the museum for long enough that he could invite her to join him for dinner.

When Belle returned she smiled, but was eyeing the museum bag under his arm with both curiosity and suspicion. They wandered, arguing amiably, Medieval collection or Asian art, agreed on European paintings and generally wandered the museum, showing and agreeing (or disagreeing) on the merits of their favourite works of art. Gold found himself enjoying himself far more than he ever imagined. That he and Belle had similar taste in art had come as a bit of a pleasant surprise and he found himself more relaxed than had been in a long while until the real world crashed into the dream. Or rather came screaming out of the crowd.

"Granpa, granpa..." he heard just barely in time to brace himself before the small, dark haired missle shot across the floor and attached itself to his good leg. Robert Gold loved his grandson more than almost anyone on the planet. However, being out with a beautiful young woman whose company he genuinely enjoyed was not the best time for the boy. But then, it had always been a dream, he knew that. The evidence of exactly how much too old he was for her, was currently attached to his trouser leg.

"Aye lad, where is..." he started with a sigh.

"Henry." He heard his son almost immediately. "Oh, hey Pop. What are you..." Bae paused from his attempt to extract his son from his father's leg as he realised that the man wasn't alone.

Robert immediately stepped into the silence. "This is Belle French, she's a friend," he said. Honestly, his son should know better but there was a look on Bae's face that told him this wasn't over yet. "Belle..."

"Of course you must be Bae, your father has told me so much about you," she said with a bright smile as she offered him her hand.

Had he really talked about his son with her? He honestly couldn't remember. Belle was very easy to talk to, and their conversation had rambled a good bit. At that, Henry tugged at his grandfather's jacket. "And this is Henry," Gold said.

"Hello Henry," Belle said, leaning down to the boy.

"I painted," he said to her, showing her his hands which had (mercifully dried) paint on them. "You're pretty."

Belle smiled and blushed just a little. "Get's his charm from you, I see," she said.

"Papa," Bae responded with a laugh. He opened his mouth to say more but the look in his father's eye's warned him against it.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, running a hand through his grandson's hair, so very much like Bae's when he was that age.

"Painting. Art classes, remember?"

Gold vaguely remembered giving them some family classes or some such. Bae was very particular about what he would let his father do for him, but anything that was both for Henry and educational, he could usually manage. "I could ask you the same."

"We were attending the Silk Road preview," he said as if it were no unusual thing. Before Bae could say anything, they were joined by Emma Swan, much to his...something.

"You got him? I swear...Hey Gold," she said, changing gears as she noticed his presence and that of Belle for the first time. Introductions went around again. Emma was studying Belle with a suspicious look. Of course, Emma was a copper, so she was naturally suspicious.

Gold invited them to join them, not that he wanted them to. But it was only polite. He'd never much cared about polite, but it was his son, his family. Still, he was selfish, he didn't want to share his time with Belle with anyone else, at least not yet.

"Sorry, but I'm on tonight, so..." Emma said with a shrug.

Inside Gold released a sigh of relief followed instantly by guilt. He knew nothing would come of it, but he wanted to enjoy the fantasy for a bit longer. "Your son seems nice," Belle said, distracting him from his thoughts as they turned into the Decorative Arts wing. "And Henry is adorable. I didn't know you had a grandon."

"Perhaps I didn't want to remind you of what an old man you had volunteered to spend time with," he said, trying for light hearted. It was the truth, more or less.

"We've done this one already, you aren't an old man. And now you make it sound as if I am doing a volunteer service," she said, boldly taking his arm. "I enjoy your company." Belle smiled and looked up at him.

He was rather shocked, to busy taking in the feel of her arm through his. "But I do have to say, you must have been very young when Bae was born. Quite the precocious one."

"I'll thank ye for that," he told her, his accent thickening just a bit in pleasure. "And the answer is, not old enough, that's for certain."

"Are you ever? So you son get's more than his good looks from his father," she said before she could stop the words. Idiot, she whispered to herself. The last thing she wanted him thinking was that she was chasing him, was attracted to him. He probably thought she was just a silly girl. But while she was cursing herself for eighteen kinds of fool. Gold only smiled at her, and told her she was being kind.

 

They managed to stay in the museum, talking and wandering until the closing announcement was made, warning to make for the exit.

"Wow, I didn't even notice," Belle said, looking at her watch.

"I hope I've not taken too much of your day."

"Oh no, I did everything I needed to do this morning," she told him, trying not to blush as she remembered exactly why she was up so very early.

"Then may I convince you to join me for dinner?" Robert asked her. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't want the day to end. They had enjoyed themselves so very much.

"That's hardly fair," she said. "You've asked me again before I could. When are you going to allow me to ask. I can guarentee it won't be quite as exciting at that was..."

Never, he thought. It was selfish, but he was quite certain that Belle wasn't the kind of woman that would allow the imbalance. and if holding the potential out there kept her accepting his invitations, he would whatever was necessary. Aloud he said, "when you manage to get there before me."

It was then that the second unwanted interruption came. Gold was more irritated this time. He had been certain when he had seen Kenneth Irons upstairs earlier that they had an understanding, so it was with a certain amount of shock that he turned when he heard the familiar, slightly accented voice call his name. Irons was tall, certainly by Gold's standards, by most standards, with a sharp face, hair that walked the fine line between fair and white, and green eyes that never missed anything. Besides all that, Irons had a reputation and while his daughter being with him should insure his good behavoir, still it wasn't an introduction he wanted to make.

"Irons," he said formally, putting a hand protectively (possessively) on Belle's arm.

"Gold." That he didn't even try to garner an introduction to his beautiful companion spoke volumes. "Gold, could I have a word? Privately," he said. There was something in his eyes that made Robert agree. "Layla, would you please stay here and keep..."

"Miss French," Gold supplied, not willing to give the man more. Now he knew something wasn't right. He knew the man, had done for quite some time. If anything, he was paranoid where his daughter was concerned. "Belle?" he asked

"We'll be fine," she said and turned to Layla to ask what she had seen at the museum while the two men stepped aside for a brief and very quiet conversation.

A few moment and they returned. Robert shook the man's hand. "Thank you, Irons," he said. "Good to see you again, Layla." He might be a beast with adults but he drew the line at terrorising children.

"You too, Mr. Gold. Nice to meet you Miss French. You have a very pretty girlfriend, Mr. Gold," she said in that way of children to say exactly what was on their minds.

Belle blushed but said nothing and in the presence of her father, he wasn't about toe correct her. He just hoped that Belle didn't mind. Still, what Irons had told him left him disturbed.

"Ian noticed something, in the course of his duties. Did you know you are under observation? An amateur at that." He thought about it, remembered the figure he'd thought he'd seen the other night. Gold had never much felt the need for personal security. His profile was so low as to be subterranean. Still, it wouldn't be the first time someone had gotten stupid. The question that was foremost in his mind was Belle. She had been with him, was she in danger? He would have to make a few calls, but he knew one thing for certain, he was going to see Belle safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thank you for reading. Sorry for the delay, but life... Please do that thing, you know, the one that keeps me writing. 
> 
> For those of you who want to know, Kenneth Irons is borrowed from Witchblade, the TV series, for many reasons, but mostly because I wrote a lot of FF for that series back in the day. Its how I started to write again. Layla is a character of my own creation for one of those stories, written for a prompt. They appear here because well, I needed him, and to make my sister, BardicRaven happy.


	10. Scotch and Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little dinner and getting to know one another.

 

 

 

"So who was that man?" Belle asked, shaking him from his thoughts as they made their way carefully down the front steps of the Met.

"Kenneth Irons, he's the owner of Vorschalag Industries." Belle gave him a blank look that he found amusing, if only because Kenneth wouldn't like to think he was so unmemorable.

"The name is vaguely familiar," she told him. "I might have seen his picture or something. I'm afraid I don't pay much attention to the business news." Belle blushed slightly.

"I'm certain that you have much more interesting things to pay attention to. Now, what would you like to eat?" Of course he could think of any number of extravagantly expensive and famous restaurants to take her to, but she would not be happy with it. Unfortunately the area nearest the museum tended towards both extremes, haute cuisine and fast food, and neither seemed a good compromise. "How do you feel about pub food?" he asked on the off chance. He knew they did a good hamburger, or they had the last time he had been.

"Depends, is the football on?" she asked with a smile.

"What makes you think I'm a football supporter?"

"Your accent gave it a good chance, add pub food, it's logical." She gave a knowing smile.

"No, there is no match this late, certainly, and while I enjoy the odd match, I'm hardly a supporter," Gold said, dismissively.

"So, I wouldn't find...oh, a Celtic FC scarf in the back of your closet?" He couldn't help but smirk at her. Of all the things he expected, this conversation was not one of them.

"Liverpool," he told her. "Not Catholic. Good guess though. You are rather well versed." He offered her his arm to guide her down 83rd towards Park Avenue and their destination.

"My Da did his gap year in the UK. Loves his football. I have an aunt that immigrated as well. I spent some summers with them. Three boys, all football mad. I don't keep up much anymore but I enjoy watching when I'm home visiting."

This pleasant conversation kept them until they made it the three long blocks to the cheery light of the pub. Gold tried to keep himself from allowing his concern to distract him, or to keep her from distracting him too much either (Belle was very distracting), but Irons words bothered him, and he knew he hadn't expertise for that. Fortunately, he had people for that. Once he had her seated in a cozy corner, he'd excused himself and moved towards the back to make a call, making certain he could see both her and the door.

"Jefferson," Gold said the moment the phone was picked up. "I have a job for you. It appears that someone has an interest in my social life." It took a few moments to fill him in. Of course, Jefferson knew and respected Ian Nottingham's work, on that alone he was willing to get someone on it immediately. Reassured that the situation was well in hand, he considered whether he should call his daughter in law and let her know, in case it was not just him, but the rest of his family in the crosshairs, but that could wait til tomorrow. They lived in a security building after all. Instead her returned to Belle, who was reviewing the menu in the dim light.

Dinner was delightful. The advantage of being Sunday night was that it wasn't particularly crowded. They had eaten sausage rolls and shared chips and curry, and he'd taught her a little about scotch, which she said she'd not drunk much of. The conversation ranged over a variety of topics. They had returned to football briefly when the match day results had shown on the screen. "I suppose I can forgive you for your appalling taste in clubs," he teased when noting that they had won.

"I could say the same for you, but I inherited mine from my Da, so I didn't get much choice in the matter."

"As did I, one of the few things he left me," Gold had remarked before realising what he had said. He almost never spoke of his father, let alone to someone he had just met. He realised quite suddenly that he needed to watch himself. It wasn't like him to let his guard drop and yet with Belle it was so very easy.

"Well, then we can hardly blame one another at all, then," she replied pleasantly. Belle was an intelligent woman, she could tell that the discussion was hitting a nerve. Instead of asking she turned the conversation back to the exhibit.

It had begun to rain lightly by the time that they finished, but despite that, Belle refused to allow him to put her in a taxi. "I am fine to take the train, Robert. You have done so much for me, I couldn't possibly let you do that as well." But he wasn't so very easily deterred.

"In that case, I suppose I will just have to take the train with you then," he said evenly. "A gentleman should see the lady to her door, and while I might not be a gentleman, still, I can pretend." Robert gave her a half smile.

"I think you are entirely a gentleman, but really, you don't have to come all the way out to Brooklyn with me, really. I am perfectly capable of making my way home by myself." Belle couldn't help but feel flattered but she didn't want to put him out. Even so she was blushing. Seeing her home like a lady, that was more 'date' territory than just friends going to the Museum together. But it wasn't possible that he saw her that way, after all, so far he had given no hint that he was interested in anything but her companionship. Belle didn't want to get her hopes up. Her last relationship had been a disaster from moment one and it had taken her forever to get rid of him. Of course, Gaston had been everything that Robert Gold wasn't, big, dumb, self centered, overbearing...in other words a mistake. Also the last time she'd let her roommate set her up with something. Robert was intelligent, witty, with a dry sense of humour and had treated her like...well, like a princess. She wasn't certain she knew exactly what to do with that.

Belle was so distracted that she barely noticed that they had almost reached the subway station, well until the sky opened up and began to pour. The two of them rushed down the stairs as quickly as his leg and her clumsiness allowed. "Well, I suppose that's decided it then," Robert told her as they reached the relative dry of the station. "I'll have to see you home. I'm certainly not going back out in that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's a little short but it is there. For those of you who are reading, you can thank my sister BardicRaven for this post. She has asked me if there was an update every single day that we have talked since the last time. Please enjoy, read, reply and all those other things that keep the muse happy. 
> 
> Question of the hour-- or the post or something. Goodnight kiss? Yes, no, maybe? Get your thoughts in now :)
> 
>  
> 
> Notes---In this case Football refers to proper football, played with the feet, called Soccer in the US. I am, in fact, myself a football supporter, though not of either team mentioned. FC stands for Football Club. Celtic is a SPL (Scottish Premiere League) team and if you haven't heard of them, its not surprising because there isn't a lot of coverage outside the UK. Liverpool FC is at least familiar to a lot of people, being part of the EPL (English Premier League) and I gave it to him because RC (with rather unforunate taste) is a Liverpool supporter. Ah, well someone has to be, I suppose. :)


	11. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Train rides and talks.

 

 

 

Robert had no metro card, so Belle convinced him to let her swipe him through as they heard the train coming. "Wouldn't want to miss and I can't see you jumping the turnstile," she said with a smile as they went through, hurrying on to the platform as the train rumbled into the station. "Not in that suit."

It stopped just as they reached the doors and waited politely for the people to get off before Gold ushered her on before him. Fortunately at almost 8:00 on a Sunday evening, the downtown local train was not terribly crowded. They managed to sit together on the long bench, leaning close to talk to one another over the rattle of the train.

"It's been a while since I took the subway," Gold told her. "I'm afraid I've become a bit Manhattan provincial, or so my son tells me."

"I think we all get that way, somewhat. I mean, everything I do is centered in two neighbourhoods. Either it's near school and work, or near home. If I could live within walking distance I would probably rarely ride the train myself. I mean, performance nights, but I'm afraid I don't get out much," she said sadly.

"I'm much the same," he admitted. 'I've probably been out more in the last two weeks than in the past couple of....Oh, I can't remember when. Of course I have you to thank for that."

"Then I suppose we have to do it more often," Belle said without thinking, at least until she realised what she had said. Robert found the blush that followed entirely too enticing. "I..." she started to say, but he stopped her.

"I rather like that idea, yes. Belle, I truly enjoy your company and..." But before he could continue, four teens, somewhere in that place between boy and man, entered the car with some kind of portable music device, to entertain the passengers with their acrobatics.

"It's always easy to pick out the tourists," Belle whispered loudly in his ear over the music. He caught her eye and she nodded discreetly as one of the young men, the one performing at the moment, turned a flip around the pole, inches from the woman's startled head, and they watched her flinch. Most of the rest of the car was divided into either watching or ignoring the show, and Gold found himself seeing it through Belle's eyes, the joy at the creativity and athleticism of them. As the train pulled into the next station, Robert found himself reaching into his pocket for some random bills, and dropping them into the hat as the boy passed by.

"Thanks, Man," the performer said, running to catch up with the rest moving to another car for fresh pickings and to avoid being rousted by the cops.

"That was nice of you," Belle said. smiling.

"Nonsense," he said sternly. "Better this than mugging innocent people."

"Admit it, you enjoyed it."

"Well, I didn't hate it. Just, tell no one. Might ruin my reputation. Monsters aren't nice, dearie," he said, teasing her with the 'scary' voice he used when reading the Dark One, a favourite character in his grandson's favourite storybook. Like Henry, Belle giggled.

 

At Union Square, Belle once again tried to convince him that he needn't go all the way with her as they got off to change trains, but she didn't try terribly hard. She was enjoying her time and wondering how she was going to bring up seeing him again. After all, there was no show this week, and she wasn't certain she was brave enough just to invite him out.

They stopped for a moment to listen to the jazz quartet on the mezzanine that had gathered quite a crowd, before making it to the other side of the station. There they got a change of platform and of music In this case it was a drummer using upturned drywall buckets, pounding out a bass beat to accompany a bagpiper in what could have easily been one of the more awful combinations a subway station could (and sometimes did) produce. Instead, while it was different, it was pleasant. They stood listening while they waited for the train in a companionable silence, not that they could have heard one another over the music.

The train ride to Brooklyn was mostly pleasant, as they chatted amiably about books and music, and other random things. There was one bad moment, when a panhandler tried to get Belle's attention, standing directly in front of her, shaking his cup meaningfully until a glare from Gold convinced him to move along sooner rather than later.

The station they got off at was small and shabby and as they made their way up the stairs to the street, it appeared so was the neighbourhood. Still, it was evening, dark, and while the rain had stopped, it was still damp. He decided not to judge too harshly. Around them shops were closed for the night or closing, roller doors being pulled down over shop fronts, the noise grating as they walked past. The only thing that seemed to be open was the ubiquitous bodega, bright with harsh coloured lights, and a Chinese takeaway.

They stopped in front of an old brownstone apartment building, the door buzzer system clearly no longer functional, and Belle fished for her keys. "You know," she said as she dug into her handbag, not looking at him. "We have no show this week." Her voice was quiet. "But...well, you probably wouldn't...Never mind," she trailed off, having finally found her keys.

"What is it, Belle? You can ask me anything."

She moved up the two steps to the door before turning. "It's just, having you there Friday meant a lot to me, knowing that there was a friendly face in the audience."

"I'm glad I could be of service, I genuinely enjoyed watching you perform," he said. "All of you." The addition might not be necessary, but he didn't want her to think he was some kind of stalker. Still he couldn't help the warmth that flooded him, knowing she appreciated his presence. He vowed he would gladly go to all of the shows if it would make her happy. Wondering when he had started to get soft in the head, he returned his focus to her. She was struggling with the key to the security door, finally getting it to let go and admit them into a little foyer that smelled of stale cigarette smoke and cheap disinfectant.

"We have a rehearsal on Wednesday night, mostly we watch each other perform, or work on new routines and offer suggestions. Sometimes people invite...well, friends. I'm still working on my routine, if you wanted to..." The words seemed to leap out of her mouth.

"I'd love to," Robert said before she could say more. Of course he would, any excuse to be in her presence. Even if it was only as a friend.

"I'm not sure where it is...but I could call you?" she suggested quietly.

Gold didn't think he could have got his phone out faster if his life depended on it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd been plotting how to get her number without her thinking he was a creepy geezer, and the opportunity landed right in his lap. Now if she just... the dark voice in the back of his mind whispered, but he shut it down. After a couple of false starts, Belle suggested they put their own in and they exchanged phones.

"There, now you can reach me," he said as she led him through the inner door into a narrow corridor with a stair case. There were apartment doors on either side, and a bicycle chained to the newel post, but it didn't smell as bad as the foyer. "For whatever...the location and the time..." he finished lamely. He'd not felt so painfully awkward since he was a young lad. She led him up straight up the stairs, a bit steep and clad in lino that was clearly several decades out of fashion. At the top, there were two doors, and she stopped in front of the one marked 2D in stick on numbers.

"This is me," she said unnecessarily.

"Very well, I've seen you safely to your door, I suppose I'd best take my leave," Robert said. This time he leaned forward, expecting her to kiss his cheek again and this time he was ready for it. He'd seen enough of her to know she was just a very tactile person and he was determined to be brave. They leaned toward one another but at the last moment, something in his (or her) coordination failed. He found his lips meeting hers. It was gentle and awkward and yet, she didn't pull away. Gold ended the kiss and pulled back with as much dignity as he could manage. Belle was blushing (she couldn't seem to help herself) but she didn't seemed disturbed or upset either. Perhaps...but he decided that was something to contemplate later, much later, when he was alone.

Instead, he wished her a good night, and turned to go back down the stairs. He'd had enough of those today, and his leg wasn't going to thank him, but right now he didn't care. Her invitation and the feel of her lips caused him to smile as he reached the ground floor. Looking back, he saw that Belle had opened her door but was watching him until he went through the door, before closing hers behind her.

He dialed Dove. Belle was safely in her building, though that sticky door bothered him, perhaps he should see who owned the...place that she lived in. Jefferson was on the other thing, so all was well. Gold walked to the bodega to get a coffee while waiting for Dove, with a smile on his lips and something that just might be hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and as usual to my sister, BardicRaven for the beta. Please, read, review, and all those lovely things that keep the muse happy.
> 
> Notes- Yes, all those things actually happen on the subways of New York, sometimes at the same time. There are many troups of young men who do dance/acrobatics on subway cars. Some are quite good and they work for tips. But they have to move on, or they can get rousted because techincally its illegal. 
> 
> Musicians on the platforms are also traditional. Some have particular places they play, others move around but the mezzinine at Union Square is common, and the Jazz combo does play there, though the players vary somewhat. 
> 
> A Bodega is a New York institution, they are convienace stores that grace just about every corner, some are more like kiosks while others have full deli counters and even serve hot food.


	12. Questions, questions, questions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone wants some answers.

 

 

Gold leaned back in his large leather chair and sighed. His sleep had been uneven the night before, punctuated by dreams, only bits of which he remembered, and those centered around Belle. _I'm bloody hopeless_ , he thought to himself. On the other hand, there was Belle herself. She had not tried to back away, nor had she acted as if she was offended by their kiss. Oh, it was hardly earth shattering, but it had still been significant. But he had really tried to keep himself focused on other things, which on a Monday at the office should have been easier than it turned out. In addition to the usual Monday work load, his mobile phone had been ringing rather frequently. Since few people actually had the number, that in and of itself was adding to the unusual nature of the day. That and the fact that he was actually looking forward to a phone call, one from Belle herself. Unfortunately so far he had been out of luck.

The first call he should have been expecting, and dreading. "So, Papa, I was surprised to see you at the museum yesterday," his only child had said. God, he loved the boy, but Bae had never been subtle, or perhaps it was only with his father that he was that transparent.

"I had an invitation to the preview, I thought it would be a good time to use it," Gold said, hoping that he would get the hint, or that his assistant would call him, or possibly the ground would open up and swallow him. He wasn't terribly picky at this point.

"And the woman? Come on, Pop, you know I'm going to ask, and keep asking, you might as well tell me. It's not like you get out and date much," Bae said. They could both read the unspoken 'or at all.' His son was right of course. After the disaster that was Cora, he had more or less sworn off dating. Oh, he allowed himself the odd bit of companionship but that wasn't the sort of thing one discussed with his son, at least he hoped most men didn't. He was no saint, he just preferred to think of it as having a healthy understanding of the facts. And fact was that his wallet held more appeal to most of the women he met than his face or body did. Oh, there were plenty that would be willing to feign one to get the other, but he preferred not to play those games. But this was getting him nowhere.

"We aren't dating. She's...a friend," he said shortly, hoping that would be the end of it.

"Hmmm, and where did you meet this friend?" Bae prompted.

"Baelfire..." he warned. Usually it was enough to remind his son exactly who was who in this relationship.

"Come on, Papa, you know I can find out, one way or another.  Wouldn't it be best just to tell me?"

Gold hrumphed. But he knew his son and the boy would find a way. Besides, he was married to a police officer. "If you must know, I met her at Abigail's show. She's a student in curation, we fell to talking, and I had a spare ticket. It's nothing," he said, knowing that even as he said it, it was a lie. He tried very hard not to lie to his son, but in this case, there was telling the truth and there was prying, and Bae was getting dangerously close to the later.

"Oh, is she..."

"Baelfire Neal," Gold said. He'd had enough. As much as he loved his son, he was not going to discuss his romantic, or rather his...well, whatever it was, with his son.

"All right, Papa, I give up. Besides, I have other ways of finding out, you know that, right?" He was laughing good naturally, and Robert wondered when exactly his son has stopped being intimidated by him. They'd mostly had a good relationship, but it had gotten a bit rocky in his teens, especially with Milah coming back into their lives, trying to buy her way into her son's affections, and making Robert miserable. Still, he wasn't about to explain himself to his son. The rest of the conversation continued more generally, would he want to come to a new opening at the gallery next month (possibly, let him know the dates, as long as it wasn't too much of that modern rubbish), Henry, were they having dinner on Thursday night? Emma was working late (yes), Henry, and the sort of things they usually talked about.

Finally he got his son off the phone and returned to the pile of contracts that needed to be gone through. He'd asked his assistant to order him in lunch from the deli around the corner and settled into a long afternoon of making contract notes when the next call came in, also not from Belle.

"Gold, how goes it old man?" the rather friendly if slightly hyper voice of Jefferson came over the line. Suddenly he went from disappointed to giving it his entire attention.

"Depends on what you found. I assume you found something?" he said.

"Would I have bothered to call if I didn't have something to tell you? No, of course I wouldn't. So, my man got on the two of you before you left the pub. Lovely girl, by the way," the man said.

"Get on with it, Jefferson, you know what Mondays are," he growled just a little. Usually he was more patient with the man, but he wasn't about to answer questions for him that he wouldn't answer for his own son. "Was there something to it?"

"Never let it be said that Irons' shadow isn't good at what he does, almost preternaturally. You know I tried to hire him away once? Didn't go well for some reason. Anyway, he was spot on, as usual. I'd send the man a fruit basket, or an expensive weapon, or whatever sort of thing you send to someone like him in thanks. There was a man following you and the young lady. By the way, you almost lost him on the subway. My man barely made it on, trying to see which way to jump. Not sure who exactly it was he was after following, he took down the number of Dove's car, but then he kept an eye on the building for a while, before taking off. I have someone on him. I'll get you a full background, probably tomorrow, if that's good?"

"And Belle? I trust that you have someone on her?" Gold asked sharply.

"Followed her this morning as far as FIT, got turned away at the door, security is pretty tight there, so she's probably safe. One of my other associates might have taken a look somewhere and found that she is in class or working in the library until 4:30 this afternoon, and yes, I'll have someone there, just to make sure. I think this guy is pure amateur hour,to tell the truth, interested in the girl, maybe a loony bird, maybe a stalker, but either way, I'll keep someone on her until I get the information back, then we can decide how to proceed. Does that work for you?"

"As usual, Jefferson, I trust that you know what you are doing."

"If he's just a garden variety pervert, it might just be a matter of the right people warning him off. But I will know more later."

"I will rely on you to handle it then," Robert told him, already turning his attention back to a particularly tricky real estate contract on his desk. "Let me know what you learn." They rang off with the usual exchange of pleasantries, and Gold returned to his work.

It was almost 5:30 and Gold was giving serious thought to taking the rest of the contracts home where he could sit by the fire and read with a good scotch and his bad leg propped up, when his mobile rang again. He checked the caller ID. This time it was Belle and he almost dropped the phone in his haste to answer it.

"Belle," he said, hoping he didn't sound as completely soppy as he thought he did.

"Hey," she said quietly. He could almost picture that smile that she had yesterday when she had seen him at the museum. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all. I'm just looking at a rather imposing pile of paperwork and wondering if I want to finish it here or at home. And you?" he asked.

"About to go meet Ruby for a bite to eat, then home to a mound of homework, so pretty much the same as you." The conversation seemed a little stilted, but then it was the first time they had ever communicated over the phone, and he reasoned that it would take time. Also he wasn't keen on talking on the phone anyway. "But I wanted to tell you, Ruby got me the details on the rehearsal, it's at 72nd St Studios, between Columbus and Amsterdam, at 7:00 Wednesday. Would you like to..." she paused.

"Does eating before rehearsal bother you, or only performance?" he asked. "I could...meet you for a bite beforehand?"

"That would be... I mean, it's only performance, it's the nerves. I'd really like to, yes," Belle said.

"Very well, where would you like to meet? I don't know what your schedule is." _Slowly_ , he reminded himself, _don't scare her._

"I'm finished with work at 4:30," she told him. It wasn't as if he didn't know where she worked, she had told him that already. "If I catch the train at 5:00..."

"Very well, I will meet you at the 72nd Street 1 station about, shall we say 5:30?" He was trying for urbane and hoping he succeeded. "How do you feel about Indian food?"

"All right, I will meet you there. I'll call if something...you know. Oh, and yes, I love Indian food, really."

"Well, it's not quite Jackson Heights, but it is quite good. I will see you then," he said. "And Belle, if you..." he started to say something, but he didn't know what he was going to say, really. 'Call me for anything?' that didn't sound quite right.

"Sorry, what was it? Ruby was yelling at me. I'd best..."

"You go along, and I will see you Wednesday," he told her, breathing a sigh of relief and gratitude towards her friend for saving him from making a fool of himself. It was going to be a long two days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. Also to my sister BardicRaven for betaing. Please comment and all those lovely things that keep us writing.


	13. Curiousity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which questions are asked on both sides.

 

 

"So, who was that on the phone?" Ruby asked as they walked together down 7th Avenue. Belle blushed. Not that she had any reason. They'd just agreed to have dinner. She cursed herself when she realised that he had manipulated her into accepting yet another dinner from him though. He was entirely too good at that. But before she could get further down that rat hole, Ruby tapped her shoulder. "Hey, Earth to Belle. Come on, it's not that difficult a question. Well, unless you're trying to hide something..."

Belle would be the first, second and third to admit she was reluctant to answer. Not that she was embarrassed but Ruby had a way of figuring things out, and especially things that she wasn't sure she wanted to talk about. Finally, knowing there was no escape from the probing questions of her best friend, Belle answered. "Robert," she whispered reluctantly.

"Robert as in Robert Gold, as in Mr. Gold who rescued you from Mr. Sleaze? He called you?"

"Yes, that Robert Gold, and no, I called him. It's not...whatever you think it is..." she finished lamely hoping Ruby would calm down. But that wasn't Ruby.

"Think it is? Girl, did he or did he not ask you out to dinner after the show the other night?" she asked, paying just enough attention to dodge the tourists, delivery men and other pedestrians as they wove through the crowd toward their favourite diner.

"Well, yes. But we both had to eat. He was just being..."

"He gave you his phone number, that doesn't sound like just being nice to me. He is so into you, girlfriend."

"Really, it's nothing. After Sunday when..." Belle said. She realised her mistake in an instant but it was too late.

"Sunday, what happened Sunday?" Ruby asked, her dark eyebrows shooting for her hairline. "Last I heard we were on Friday. So let me try and get this straight, after he rescues you from that jerk ass, you give him tickets, which I notice he only used one of. He comes to the show, and invites you out to dinner? Am I right so far?"

Belle nodded

"He pay?"

"Yes. He said that because he asked me..."

"Yeah, whatever, excuses aren't important."

Belle squawked at that, but Ruby ignored her and continued as they went into the diner, nodded at the guy behind the counter and continued to the table in the back they had been occupying for a number of years.

"Did he offer to take you home or invite you back to his place?" She asked as she tossed her bag into the booth and slid in beside it.

"No, he didn't. He just put me in a taxi," Belle said. She hoped they could finish the interrogation so she could start talking about something, anything else. Ruby, being Ruby, ignored the hint. Once she was set on something ti was hard to get her to change her mind, she was like a wolf on the hunt.

"Now, what happened on Sunday, details, girl..."

"Don't you have an actual love life of your own rather than inventing one for me?" Belle asked in exasperation.

"Who me? You are kidding right? Nothing going for this girl. I mean that guy, Graham, the bouncer was kinda hot, but I think he's got something going with the club owner."

"Graham and Regina?" Belle asked. Not that she payed any attention exactly, but anything to distract Ruby.

"Yeah, that's the word. Don't think it's serious but I'm not one to interfere," she said with a shrug.

No, Belle though, you'd rather badger me half to death. But she did love Ruby to death and she could kind of use someone to talk to. "Mostly not," she agreed with her friend.

"Okay, that one time, but seriously, what was Ashleigh thinking? She is so much better off with Sean and we both no it. But we weren't talking about me, we were talking about you and a certain well dressed, older gentleman. Not that there's anything wrong with older guys, they've had time to learn a thing or two.'' Ruby gave her a wicked 'know what I mean?' kind of smile and Belle couldn't help but laugh at her friend's antics. "Now, what happened on Sunday?"

 

Emma Swan slipped into the apartment quietly, just in case Henry was actually doing what he was supposed to be and sleeping. She could smell food, that seemed a pretty good start after a fairly long day, well, day and a half, whatever it had been. She hated catching late cases.

She made her way into the ...well, they called it a 'great room' these days, now that the neighbourhood had started going upscale. When she and Bae had moved in, it had been barely above a squat. The room consisted of living room/dining room/kitchen with Henry's bedroom and the bathroom tucked under their own loft bedroom. Opposite the bedrooms, blocked off by bookshelves and a moveable screen was Bae's studio space where he could frequently be found if their son was asleep.

But at the moment she could see him sitting at the bar in the kitchen, the phone to his ear, and a pen in one hand. "Yeah, I'll talk to Emma, we'll see. Yes, I will," he said before ringing off and turning. "Hey," he said, getting up from the stool and pulling her into his arms. "Long one?"

"Not so bad, this guy was easy to catch, gave it up quick. Not bad. Paperwork that took forever. Munchkin out?"

"Yeah, took a while. Besides, I figured he'd wake up and want to stay up with you for a bit. Hope you're good with Spaghetti and Meatballs."

"Depends, did you make the meatballs?"

"No way, Giovanni's, and extra garlic knots. Have a seat, I'll pour you a glass of wine."

Emma nodded. Back in their early days, she could never have imagined anything like this. Emma was a wild child, had run away from enough foster homes to get sent to a group home. She had a chip on her shoulder, and thought that the whole 'home and family' thing was a myth. Now she had it. Oh, it wasn't exactly normal, but then what was? She'd been running with a pretty wild crowd and had met Bae while they were both trying to boost the same car, a sweet VW bug, yellow. They'd also both gotten caught and thrown in juvie together. Turned out Bae had been trying to get back home after being kidnapped on a court mandated visitation with his mother and her...whatever. His father had shown up like some kind of wizard in a fairy tale and gotten Bae out. But somehow, in that brief time that he had been alone in the interview room with his father, Bae had convinced the man that she'd just been caught with him, and that it wasn't her fault. Emma never knew exactly what he'd said.

The old man was harsh, sharp and sarcastic, and it turned out that was his good side but something Bae had said had convinced him to get her out and get her transferred into a program in the city. Man had a lot of pull. They had rarely seen eye to eye, and she had honestly been certain he hated her until she'd figured that he just kept his distance with everyone. No one had expected that the two of them would end up together, in love and raising a son a decade later. It was a complicated relationship, which was why Emma had done what she had. Now she just needed to bring it up with Bae.

"So, what do you know about that girl your Dad was with at the Museum the other day?" she asked, trying for casual.

"Belle French? She's a graduate student at FIT, majoring in textile curation, works at the college library and dances with the burlesque troupe as a hobby. She met Papa when he rescued her from a drunken fan and she sent him tickets as a thank you. Why?"

"You got all that out of your father?" she asked in shock.

"Nope, called Abby, that's who I was on the phone with. She says we should come see the show in a couple of weeks, by the way if we can get a babysitter. I'm pretty sure Papa is out of the running. That's who I was talking to when you came in," he said with a grin that still managed to make her insides go weak.

"Of course, and all I did was run her through the database. But how did you figure out she was a dancer?"

"Because it's the only place Papa has been to actually meet anyone. I knew he went to the show with Midas, and he was acting a little funny, so I took a chance. Abby also says she is a nice girl, really level headed, not the type to go after a man because of his money, if she even knows he has any."

"That's my read, but..."

"Since when did you care about my old man's love life? He finally starting to grow on you?" he teased.

"No, just want to know about anyone that might be around my kid," she growled. "Now, where is that glass of wine you promised me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for those of you who are reading. Please keep the comments and other things coming. Sorry if I'm a bit slow, recovering from dental surgery has bitten into a lot of things, no pun intended. 
> 
> Also, Voting for The Espenson Awards is open on Tumblr, so please check out all the great stories, and vote. My own "Enemies and Friends" has been nominated in Best AU!OUAT, and all the votes will be appreciated of course.


	14. Digging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson comes up with some information and Gold makes plans.

 

 

Wednesday dawned bright and cold. In fact, colder than usual for October, the temperature dipping well below normal. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending) Belle French had her dreams to keep her warm. Dreams about a man she wasn't completely certain was interested. Admittedly, Ruby, who had dissected absolutely every word of every moment they had spent together, had a point. Also, there was that kiss. She was pretty certain it had been an accident, but at the same time, he hadn't seemed to mind. She had considered inviting him in for a cup of tea, but thought that might be just a little too forward. Ruby, of course, would advocate for having him in and then starting to strip off in front of him, but Belle was pretty certain that she wasn't ready for that.

She stuck a head out from her blankets and suddenly decided that even another round of erotic dreams couldn't save her from the cold. The apartment was freezing and it wasn't the first time. She touched the radiator and found that it was stone cold. It wasn't the first time, in fact it was far more normal than it should be, but she didn't have time to sit on the phone to 311 this morning. What she did know was that she wasn't up to one more winter with minimal heat, but her lease still had time on it, and Belle didn't have the money to move. Cursing that it was far too cold to shower, she gathered her books and her practice bag and prepared to leave. At least she had dinner with Robert to look forward to tonight.

 

Robert Gold was actually looking forward to his evening. It had been a very long day since he had talked to Belle, though he admitted to himself that he had thought about calling any number of times. But all the reasons he came up with sounded fake, even to himself. But tonight he would see her, they would have dinner together and he would join her at her rehearsal. Getting to watch her dance was second only to the pleasure of talking to her, as far as he was concerned. Still he had to get through the rest of the day, which wasn't going to be easy. For some reason it was relatively slow. He had quite a few deals going, he always did, but at this exact moment, nothing was moving.

Then there was lunch. He generally enjoyed lunch at the club, talking to a few colleagues or just enjoying the peace. But today, as he picked up his briefcase and coat, Robert wondered exactly what madness had led him to accept the invitation on today of all days. He was having lunch with both Alex Midas and Kenneth Irons, both of whom he liked, as well as he liked anyone that is. Of course, he had an ulterior motive when both men had separately called and asked if he wanted to meet for lunch at the club, and that was to keep the questioning to a minimum.

It was here that the rub lay. Alex Midas and he had always been more social with one another. It was natural. They both had children of the same age, they attended the same functions. Alex had lost Abigail's mother some years ago and they only had the one child, he and Milah had split, and they both had the difficulties of raising children as single fathers. They also both had children who had less than no interest in being society children, which had suited the two men well. Robert came from a poor background and he had seen what money and privilege could do to a child and neither one of them was interested in having their children raised by other people, they had both been as involved as they could. Overall, he was probably closer to Alex, if he could be said to be close to anyone. Unfortunately, this meant that Alex was also more likely to ask about Belle, especially as he was certain that Abigail, who was as close to her father as Bae was to him, meant he was like to know more than made Robert comfortable.

Kenneth was another matter entirely. The man was, if anything, more private than Robert. They both preferred to keep their private lives private, even more so now that he had a young daughter to see to. Oh, Kenneth had several quite well publicized affairs, but then he had always been the master manipulator, using the media to cover other secrets, secrets that were much bigger than who was sharing his bed. Gold knew a few of them, though he was not inclined to share, not unless he found it necessary. Still Kenneth was more likely to be interested in who exactly was following him and why.

His motivation in having lunch with the two of them was hoping to manage to use them against each other to keep the questioning focused on business matters. That, he knew Kenneth at least would respect. At least that was his hope. Besides, he wanted to get Kenneth's take on certain real estate investments he was inquiring into in Brooklyn. While the other man was primarily involved in Media, they both had fingers in a lot of pies and like him, Irons had invested extensively in property, at least at one time. Gold still was. Of course he was unlikely to know why Gold had an interest, and that was something that he had no interest in sharing.

 

Gold arrived at the club exactly on time and was shown to the table just as his cell phone rang. He saw that Alex was already seated, not surprising since his office was only a block away, and held up a finger while he veered off to take the call. It was from Jefferson, and therefore likely to contain information he needed sooner rather than later.

"What took you so long?" he growled into the phone the moment he was in the side room that many of the members used to take important phone calls. Mobile phone use in the dining room was, while not exactly forbidden, at least frowned upon.

"Nice to talk to you too," Jefferson responded with equilibrium. "Thought you would want as much information as I could get. We have identified the stalker."

"Well?" Gold said impatiently.

"Keith Nottingham, no relation, and believe me, I looked." Gold grunted. He knew exactly why the other man hadn't got anywhere, but he was uninclined to share. " Frankly, I'm a little surprised that the other one hasn't done him in on principle. He's hardly an asset to the family name. So... record for drunk and disorderly, public intoxication, creating a public nuisance, mostly minor stuff, though there have been a few uglier things, nothing that ever stuck. He has a tendency to put his hands where they are not welcomed. There is also something, a sealed juvie record, statutory rape, but it didn't go anywhere. His parents didn't pay to get it expunged though, which is interesting. His father is big shot with Rose Industries, good family, good at getting trouble to go away. But they got fed up with his crap years ago, turned him out. He got thrown out of most of the better prep schools here in the city and a couple high priced boarding schools. Finally graduated from a nowhere private school down south. He's on a allowance from a trust set up by his grandparents, but that's it, and he goes through it pretty quickly. No job, no real desire to work. As near as I can tell he parties most of the time."

"So how is he connected to Belle or to me for that matter? I am vaguely aware of Rose, Industries, of course. I know Gareth Rose, he has a son a few years older than Bae, but they never had anything to do with each other. "

"That's it, there is no connection with either of you that I can find. I mean, he went to Dalton, got thrown out before your son was in the upper school, but that's as close as I can find. Also, frankly, he's about as dumb as a brick, and that is when he's sober, which admittedly until recently wasn't often. He is still following Miss French, and he's as sober as he gets. But he's not the type to plan anything more involved than his next drink or trying to get laid. I just can't see him being involved enough with anyone but himself. Certainly not enough to start following a girl he has no connection to."

"What is your take on it?" Gold asked. He did, in fact, hire Jefferson for both his skill and his brain. He would defer to the expert on this. Meanwhile he wondered if there was a way to convince Irons' to let his own Nottingham review the information. After all, another set of contacts couldn't hurt.

"There is more to this story. I can't get a read on this, and I don't like it. I'm doing some deeper background, but I thought you would want an update," Jefferson said.

"Do it, go all the way back to the first sandbox he took a piss in if you have to. Do you think warning him off would be effective?" Gold asked.

"Depends. If, as I suspect, someone else is calling the shots, then we would just be tipping them off, which could lead to bringing in someone much better and having to start all over."

"Your recommendation?" Gold asked.

"We keep digging. The girl is safe, Gold. If it looks like he is going to make a move, my man has orders to handle it. But I don't like a mystery."

"Wrong, Jefferson, you love mysteries, it's not knowing the solutions you don't like," he said with something akin to a laugh.

"Too true. You know me too well, old man."

"I do, that's why I keep hiring you. Though, while you are earning your fee...I have a couple of other things I'd like you to poke around in."

"More work for me? Looks like my lucky month. Grace wants horseback riding lessons."

"Yes, well," Gold responded vaguely. He knew, hell, he understood. "I've recently been told something potentially disturbing. See what you can dig up on Cora Mills, starting with her current whereabouts and her plans for travel."

"The Red Queen is back?" Jefferson had his own reasons for disliking Cora. There was a story behind it that the man had promised to tell Gold someday, as long as there was enough alcohol involved, and he didn't need to pick up his daughter. Gold wasn't one to pry, not with his own history.

"Regina thinks she's coming back to town. She's the one who warned me."

"Hmmm. I know Regina keeps a close eye on her, they aren't exactly like to start playing happy families anytime soon. I'll look into it. I'd rather know if she was coming sooner than later. What was the other thing?"

"Ammunition. Call it a rainy day policy, just in case Cora is heading this way. I want everything about Cora. Dig deep. I know there were some questions about Henry Mill's death, and I'm almost certain that Leo Blanchard didn't die naturally. Also, I remember something. There was a lad, Daniel....something. He was a scholarship student at Dalton, a year or so ahead of Regina. He worked in the stables in Central Park. I can't remember his last name, Bae might."

"Something happen to him?" Jefferson asked, and Gold could hear the scratch of his pen as he made notes.

"Daniel and Regina were...involved. It was while I was still with Cora. I tried to talk to her about it after one of their fights, but..."

"But not the future she'd picked out? Got it. Shouldn't be too hard to find a scholarship student named Daniel who worked at the stables back then. Not a lot of scholarship student's at Dalton. Do you want to know where he is or...?"

"I'd like to know if he still is. I would put very little past Cora, and now..."

"Got it. I'll call when I have more. Meanwhile..."

"Meanwhile, I think I will poke some sources of my own," Gold said. He ended the call and went back into the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for my sister, BardicRaven, as she is the one that pushes this story along. Please continue to read, comment and all those lovely things that keep my muse happy, and I love and appreciate them all. 
> 
> If anyone is wondering why there is suddenly a crossover on this, since Kenneth Irons, who was originally just going to make an appearance, actually stayed around, I thought I had best give him some billing. He and Ian Nottingham appear courtesy of the Witchblade TV series. 
> 
> Notes on New York--Dalton is a real prep school known for both a good education and for the problems they had with kids who have too much money too young, and not a lot of supervision. 
> 
> Horse back riding and riding lessons in conjuction with some of the schools was a staple of Central park almost from the beginning. However due to various issues the last stable closed in 2007. Of course, at the time when Regina and Bae would have been in school it was still alive and kicking. 
> 
> The club that they are having lunch at is the Metropolitan, and old school Men's club (and I don't mean a gentleman's club) in NYC. It has been around since the 1890's and was founded by JP Morgan. They still operate on very old school principles and jackets and ties are required.


	15. Lunch and Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold has lunch with Midas, and Irons, and dinner with Belle.

 

 

 

When he returned to the table, Irons had also joined them, and both men were looking at the menu. "I was wondering when you were coming back." Alex said.

"Some days it is almost impossible to get away from the office," Irons agreed.

"Actually that was Jefferson, some information I had him digging up," he said as he took his seat and allowed the waiter to drape his napkin over his lap before ordering a scotch.

"Oh?" Alex asked. Irons merely raised one elegant eyebrow. Gold thought it best to steer the conversation from the beginning.

"Yes, that little situation from the other day. I have him digging into it."

"The Hatter is the best," Kenneth said, casting his eye back to the menu. Jefferson had earned the nickname for his extensive collection of hats. He had once explained that considering his height, being inconspicuous was sometimes impossible, so he settled for being noted and ignored. Having seen him use the technique, it surprised him that it was as effective as it was, but then people were remarkably unobservant.

"He is, which is why I hired him."

"What did I miss?" Alex asked, closing the menu. There was a pause as the three men ordered their food and waited for the server to leave them. Gold leaned back and took a sip of his single malt. He didn't often indulge in the middle of the day, but it was that kind of week.

"Nothing much. Ian noticed that Robert had picked up a tail when we ran into one another at the Museum on Sunday," Kenneth said, dismissively. Clearly he wanted something, if he was letting the subject drop that easily. Of course it could be that he was waiting to see what the other man had to say.

"Yes, interesting. What do you two know about Rose, Industries?" Gold asked, immediately turning the subject around. If anything he was just as adept with words as Irons, and the two men could have entire conversations in which very little actual information was exchanged.

"Rose? Not a lot. I know Rose himself slightly. Not a terribly pleasant man. He actually applied for membership here once, but I gather no one would sponsor him," Alex Midas replied.

"They are in manufacturing of some sort," Irons supplied, his accent, which was vaguely european and spoke of English as a secondary language, thickened just a bit. "I've met him once or twice, socially." He expounded a little, but it was clear that the other man didn't care for him.

While Gold found the information vaguely useful, in that it confirmed his opinion of the man, who he had also met once or twice, it got him no further in figuring out what was going on. Lunch continued and he managed to steer the conversation away to the subject of property acquisition in Brooklyn and the other boroughs.

They had almost gotten through when they were interrupted. This time it was Irons' phone. He rose, nodded to both of them and went out to take the call.

"So, how is Miss French?" Alex asked. Gold, who had managed to go almost an hour without thinking about her, or their upcoming dinner, sighed internally. At least the man had waited.

"She is fine, though why you would ask me..."

"Don't bother with that Gold, you forget that my daughter and your son are still friends. Pity that the two of them made better friends than anything else, still, Emma is lovely. Anyway, Abby tells me that Bae was asking about her." Gold groaned. God, why did his social life have to be so very interesting to others?

"She is fine, very nice girl."

"Hmmm." Midas said, but before he could expound, Irons returned.

"Sorry, gentlemen, I need to be off. It seems that Layla's lessons this afternoon are canceled and I have to attend to something that is incredibly important at the school."

Midas and Gold looked at each other and smiled. "That's what you get for deciding to get a late start on it," Midas said, teasing him lightly, probably one of the few people who could get away with it. Actually they both did occasionally. There had to be some amusement to one of the most powerful men in the city being at the beck and call of a teenage girl. "We both went through it already."

"You did," Gold reminded him. "Sometimes I think I had an easier time, with a boy."

"You didn't have to worry about boys, it's true, just what he was going to do with other people's daughter's." Alex said with a laugh.

"Don't remind me," Irons said. "I dread the day when she actually discovers boys." They all laughed and lunch broke up amenably enough.

It was on the way to the street that Midas turned to him. "That's it, that is what I was forgetting, you asked about Rose, you know he has a son, about Bae and Abby's age, I believe, not sure it's important. I don't know if he was in school with them, they weren't friends, but..." the younger man shrugged. Gold filed the information away and with a nod, turned back to the office. Perhaps something had happened in the office to keep him busy for the next several hours. He hated to wait.

After returning to the office, Gold managed to kill some time reviewing the calls that had come in while he was gone. Of course, none were from Belle, who only had his private cell number. Still, he returned the calls he couldn't avoid, signed several of the contract revisions that his assistant had typed up, after he double checked that all the changes had been made. It was all done and done well, she was both precise and efficient, otherwise, she'd not have survived this long with him.

He considered calling Bae to ask if he knew the Rose boy, though he couldn't see what that would have to do with anything, still, he made a note and dropped an email to Jefferson. It was probably nothing, but then, this whole thing was a bit odd. The afternoon passed as he terrorized two interns (one accidentally, nervy that lad, would never last), and, finally, received the information on that apartment building off Metropolitan Avenue.

When his assistant knocked to let him know Dove was downstairs waiting for him, it was a relief. Gold threw the papers into his briefcase, gave his assistant a few cursory notes on things he wanted by tomorrow and left the office with a sigh of relief. As much as he hated to admit it, the office, the deal, just hadn't had the appeal for him the last couple of days that it had before, or perhaps he was just noticing it more. Bae always told him he devoted too much time to his work and not enough time to himself. It was probably true. Robert had always denied it, said that he enjoyed his work, that his life was full. Or perhaps it was that it had been so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like not to be lonely. But with Belle, it was different, she was charming, interesting, and didn't care about anything but his company. Briefly, Gold tried to remember if it had ever been like that with Milah, but it was too long ago, and there was too much bitterness there for him to really examine it. Instead he looked out the window and focused on the thoughts of Belle.

By the time Dove had dropped him at the subway station with his orders, it had started to rain. Gold grabbed his umbrella and coat from the car and made his way toward the subway entrance. Belle flew up the stairs and out onto the street amidst a stream of commuters. She had a backpack over one shoulder and what he assumed was her practice bag over her shoulder, with no umbrella, and the smile on her face when she saw him made everything else about the day fade into the distance. "Robert," she said as she practically danced up to him and tried to figure out how to hug him.

"Come under here, you'll be soaked, " he said, urging her close to him under the shelter of the umbrella. "Here, let me take something."

"Oh, I'm quite used to it," Belle said with a laugh that sent little shocks of pleasure up and down his spine. "I don't much mind the rain, but this is more than I was expecting." She leaned in and kissed his cheek and he managed to divest her of her backpack, which probably looked ridiculous with his suit, but he didn't care.

"Fortunately I was prepared. Besides, I'm not certain how you would manage an umbrella with all that."

"I can't, which is probably why I didn't bring it." They continued on, discussing nothing serious until they arrived at the restaurant. It was a small place, almost empty because of the hour, and the owner had clearly met Mr. Gold before and greeted him as a well respected customer. "I take it you have been here before," she said with a smile.

"Bae is very fond of it," he said, dismissively. "Would you like to watch them make the tandoori?" he asked, pointing to the large glass window which provided a view of the tandoori ovens. A man in kitchen whites was taking chicken off skewers, and smiled as he saw that he had an audience.

Belle was enchanted, and with a minimum of conversation, they were seated at the small table, giving them both a view of the show inside as well as the traffic on the street outside. "The best of both worlds," she said as the waiter held her chair.

"Yes, besides, between the two of us, the table right in front of the window can get a bit over warm."

The conversation stayed general until after the food had arrived. "So, I guess you came straight from the office," she said.

"Oh, what makes you say that?" he asked. He felt like he had a stupid smile on his face, but he couldn't seem to stop and since Belle seemed happy, he tried not to think about it, nor about the intimacy it implied when she offered him a fork full of her fish curry, a speciality of the house.

"The tie. You realise that almost everyone there were be pretty dressed down, or they will be once we get started."

"I'd not thought about that." He almost blushed. What was he thinking, spending an evening with these...young people? He was probably the only one there over thirty. Perhaps he should...

"You are overthinking," she said, almost as if she could read his mind. "Just take the tie off, you will be fine. Actually I like your suits, they make you look...distinguished. You know, you are the first person I've ever brought to a rehearsal. I hope that you... that they don't..." Belle bit her bottom lip.

"Now who's overthinking?" he said. "I can handle myself, sweetheart. Don't you worry. First person that you've ever taken? No boyfriend or..."

"No, no boyfriend," she said quickly. Gold released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "I haven't dated in a bit. The last one left a bad taste in my mouth."

"Oh?" he asked. He didn't want to pry but it didn't take much for her to open up.

"When I was at NYU, me, Ruby, who you have met, Ariel, and Ashleigh all shared a room over in Carlyle." She said the last as a question but he nodded for her to continue. "Anyway, Ariel's boyfriend, well fiance now, he was trying to get into a fraternity, and one of the frat brothers wanted to go out with me. I only did it as a favour, but after one date, I knew it wasn't going anywhere. Still I got guilted into about two more dates. It didn't get any better. But you don't want to hear about my horrible ex, really you don't."

"Oh, I assure you, I can relate," he said without explanation. It was hardly the time or the place to talk about his ex wife, or about Cora, in fact, he would be perfectly happy never to think about them, either of them, again.

"The last time I saw him, we were all studying at this diner. He started trying to hit on Ruby, said if I wasn't interested, he'd just have to look elsewhere." Gold had met Ruby, and he was fairly certain that this story was going somewhere and that somewhere was bound to be amusing.

"And what did Ruby do, pray tell? She doesn't seem the sort to take that kind of thing lying down," he said with a smirk.

"Well, I told him I didn't care and wished Ruby the joy of him, if she wanted. He didn't get it, actually. We were all sitting around one of those big corner booths, the ones with the L shaped bench and the chairs? Ruby was sitting in a chair on the corner and he was on the next corner, he reached out and put his hand...well, somewhere, I couldn't see since I was on the other side of the table, but the next thing, Ruby slapped him right across the face, and then stood up and poured her fresh coke over his head. I was a little shocked, but then the waiter came over and asked him to leave."

"Well, I'm sure that took care of him right and proper," Gold said, he was grinning himself, though privately he rather wanted to both congratulate her friend on her quick thinking and hunt the man down. Somehow, he thought there was more to the story than the amusing part she was telling.

"You would think, but Gaston wasn't...He was arrogant, just couldn't seem to get the message. He actually called me the next day, and the day after...I think it was a couple of months before he gave up. It was long after Eric decided he didn't want to belong to the frat. He said any organization that allowed Gaston to join wasn't one he wanted to be a part of so at least it worked out for everyone. But after that...well school took over. How exactly did we get from your tie to my horrible dating history?" she said, but she laughed as she said it.

"I am just curious," he said, trying to be light about it. "After all, it's not every day a beautiful young woman agrees to have dinner with me."

"Maybe you just haven't asked the right one?" she said, smiling even as she blushed. Gold cursed himself for having made things awkward, but fortunately at that moment the bill came, and after the usual wrangling, he paid for their meal, had the leftovers packed for Belle to take home, and made his way to the gents to take off the tie. Belle was waiting for him when he returned. The lovely girl leaned forward, carefully undid the second bottom of his shirt, his skin tingling just a little at her touch.

"There, now you are ready. Now, let us hope I don't manage to embarrass myself. I did warn you that I'm clumsy, right?"

"So you say. I've not seen any signs. I suppose I will just have to keep an eye on you," he said.

"I suppose you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all for the comments, kudos, etc. I really appreciate it. This post isn't exactly what I expected it to be, but then sometimes its like that. Please keep commenting, it helps. 
> 
> If you are following me on Tumblr, I am taking prompts for next week to celebrate my hitting the fifty follower mark. Oh, it's Rioghna7 if I haven't posted that anyway. 
> 
> NYC notes-
> 
> Yes, Carlyle is one of the residence halls for NYC, and I just couldn't resist, because, welll, who could?
> 
> The restaurant exists as well, though it's not exactly where I list it in the fic, but one has to take a little licence here and there (and the chef does put on a good show).


	16. An Interesting Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold goes to a rehearsal, meets more of the cast and tries to learn how to unwind.

 

 

They arrived at the building a little early which turned out to be fortunate, as there was a long, steep flight of stairs up to the studio. Belle blushed and apologised, stammering in embarrassment. Unable to stand her upset, Robert reached out and took both her hands in his to reassure her. "Belle, shhh...don't upset yourself. I find it more of a compliment than you can imagine that my...infirmity made so little of an impression," he told her. "It's the first thing most people notice."

"I...It wasn't the first thing I saw," she told him softly. "That was your eyes." Something was happening between them, and Gold wanted so very badly to kiss her, he might have done so as well. However, as he leaned forward the door burst open, admitting Aurora and Astrid into the small entryway.

"Hey, Belle and...Mr. Gold, isn't it? Came to watch us put it together? Might lose the magic that way."

Aurora was a pleasant young lady as far as he could tell and he had promised himself he would be pleasant to Belle's friends. "Yes, Belle thought I might enjoy it."

"He's being polite, you know it's for the moral support," Belle responded with a self deprecating laugh.

"You are much better than you think you are, Belle. Maybe you can convince her?" Aurora asked. Then her eyes fell on the way they were standing, both of her hands in his, frozen in a position that spoke of intimacy interrupted.

"I will do my best," he said, before she gathered the thus far quiet Astrid and excused themselves.

"Need to get changed. See you up there, Belle. Come on Astrid," she said.

"Yes, changing, of course. Oh, I have those fabric samples for you, Belle. Nice to see you again, Mr. Gold."

The two of them hurried up the stairs, leaving them alone again. The mood was broken though, but he could still feel something that he'd been trying not to encourage, hope.

"I should get upstairs and changed, I..." she said, looking at him a little brighteyed, as if she too could see what they had missed. "You..."

"I've been managing for a long time, and I wouldn't keep you." Boldly, he leaned in and kissed her hands where he still held them. Then he released her. She was smiling as she rushed up the stairs and, true to her self fulfilling prophesy, tripped on one of them. Before he could worry though, she was up and continuing.

Robert took a moment. In the back of his mind, the voice that sounded a lot like Milah, screeched at him that she couldn't possibly want him for anything but his money. 'You're certainly nothing to look at,' something she had screamed at him often enough before their divorce. With a determination, he shoved that voice back into its mental closet, and slammed the door. He couldn't help thinking about her words, 'the first thing I noticed was your eyes.'. Belle wasn't a liar like Milah, nor a manipulator like Cora. While they had not discussed it, he doubted very much if Belle was aware of his professional reputation. If she wasn't aware of Irons, she was most certainly not aware of him. Oh, he'd have to tell her, eventually, if there was anything to this. Preferably before someone else did. But then among this lot, who would, Abigail? The girl had known him for most of her life and it probably wouldn't occur to her. Besides, he suspected that she might be conspiring with his son to make more of this than there was right now. At the very least, she was probably keeping Bae informed. Children, he thought.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Abigail Midas burst through the doors and stopped cold at the sight of him. Then she smiled. "This is a pleasant surprise. Belle convinced you to come to a rehearsal, Mr. Gold?"

"She was very persuasive," he said, then as an afterthought, and in keeping with his plan to allow himself to unbend some, for Belle, he looked at Abigail. "Abigail, I've known you since you were a wee one, perhaps it's time you called me Robert, isn't it, dearie?"

"I..." she paused, clearly surprised. "I would like that, Robert. But I would think that you would remember that I've gone by Abby since the seventh grade."

"I can try," he replied. "You'd best..." he indicated the stairs, preferring to go up without an audience.

"Of course, I will see you up there. It's the one on the left, by the way, the other one is the changing room. The signs keep falling down." Then she hurried up the stairs.

 

By the time Gold got upstairs, a trip that wasn't quite as easy as he thought, the stairs were very steep, the correct door was open, propped with some random piece of...something. One end was clearly intended to serve as performance space, at least he assumed it was, based on the bags and belongings that lined the opposite wall under the windows. The studio was made up of one long, rectangular room that probably went the width of the building and most of the length. The other three walls were covered in mirrors with a dance barre running the length of the opposite side.

"Mr...er.. Robert," Abigail called. "I scared up a chair for you." She pointed to where it had been set next to Belle's backpack. "We have a few for guests, but they tend to wander, back and forth. There are two smaller studios on the floor above us, and another big one like this on the floor above that," she told him as he walked in, his cane sounding odd on the floor.

"Thank you, Abby." He was trying. It would take time though, for both of them. In the back, Mei Leung was doing a series of what might have been Tai Ch'i moves, while another young woman,with red hair that he'd not met was stretching at the barre, and another, who he thought was African American but she had her back to him, with the longest hair he'd ever seen, was busy being braided by Astrid. He took his seat, and nodded an acknowledgement to Mei Leung as she finished and waved at him.

"Hey, Mr. Gold, nice to see you again," a polite young man that he remembered as Phillip, greeted him. "Glad I'm not the only one this week. They always want an opinion and I'm no good for that. I mean, it all looks good to me," he confided.

"You are not with the troupe?" he asked.

"Who me? No, I've got two left feet and no rhythm, but my girlfriends both are, so I help out where I can. I'm a teacher, applied mathematics at Stuyvesant," he told Gold, naming the High School for Science and Mathematics in lower Manhattan.

Robert, to his credit, only blinked once when Phillip said girlfriends. It didn't take a genius to figure out. He'd actually thought that Mei Leung and Aurora were a couple, but looking back at the two times he had met them, it made sense. He was certainly not in a position to judge anyone else's love life. They chatted a little about the problems of education funding these days, while people filtered in from downstairs or the changing room. Phillip introduced him to Leroy, a taciturn man with grizzled hair and a full beard who Belle had mentioned was both their all purpose stage crew and Astrid's gentleman.

"He's Belle's," Phillip said, and the man nodded once and shook his hand before going to talk to Abigail. Gold couldn't help the smile that played around his lips at those words. Of course he knew what Phillip meant, but it didn't stop him from feeling like he'd been given a prize, or won an award. Then Belle came out, her bright blue unitard covered with an oversized white tee shirt that would have probably held both of them easily, and dropped down to the floor beside his chair.

"Meeting everyone I see," she said happily. "I hope this isn't boring for you..."

"Not at all," he reassured her, trying to focus on anything but the way the unitard clung to her. He'd never been so grateful for a white tee shirt in his life. He wasn't certain he could stand the view without it. "But I thought you were going to rehearse?" He was looking at her outfit.

"Oh, it's just the moves tonight for me, seeing how the choreography fits together. But it will vary, like Ariel." She pointed out the redhead he'd seen earlier. "Her new routine is ready, so she's going to be showing us the final tonight, then..." Belle stopped and seemed to tense. Robert followed her gaze and was surprised to see Regina, accompanied by the young man, Graham, who had been such a help before.

"Gold, you just seem to be turning up everywhere," she said, leaning over and kissing the air about an inch from his cheek, not wanting to smudge her perfectly applied lipstick. Graham grabbed a chair for her and after a look, set it next to Gold.

"I could say the same," he said. Robert looked at Belle, she was suddenly very quiet, not her usual cheery self, though she managed a smile at the two new arrivals. As far as he knew there was no connection between them. Still there was something watchful about her. Surely, she couldn't possibly think there was now or ever had been something between him and Regina. The thought was ridiculous and while he was certain he was wrong, he made a note to explain it to her. Instead, Robert reached out for her hand, and she gave it to him with a smile.

"Abigail wanted me here when she explained my offer, to answer any questions. Obviously they will have to finish out their current obligations, but it will give them a permanent gig, and me a good house troupe. With the addition of the odd guest star, it will be quite lucrative. She's even talked to me about maybe coming out of retirement, just for the odd show. Also, they can stop renting rehearsal space as I'm willing to give them the stage on Monday night when we are closed."

Belle excused herself to help Ruby, who had just tumbled in at a run (did that girl do anything _not_ at a run) and left Gold listening to Regina wax rhapsodic on the amenities she could offer and how good it would be for everyone. Still, he made a note to volunteer to review the contract for her. He'd forgotten more about contract law than her father's entire legal department together. Not that he didn't trust Regina, but he also knew who had raised her. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

Finally they began, starting with a meeting, fairly short, talking about the upcoming shows (he wasn't exactly sure what a circus theme was, but decided to ask Belle later), and Regina's offer, which was met with enthusiasm. Of course, the dark haired woman lapped up the attention like a cat in the cream.

After that, it was down to the serious business of the evening. Leroy was running some sort of sound system, cueing and cutting the music as each act was performed, stopped, redone, and dissected. It was interesting, and with Regina whispering a running commentary on one side, while Phillip occasionally contributed bits about the dancers on the other, meant he was  learning a great deal, and actually enjoying himself.

The most interesting part though, didn't take place on the stage, but during the break, in the form of a man in his thirties, a brit with sandy hair and a mustache. Gold had been in his chair, being questioned by Rachel, the girl with the incredibly long hair, ('They call me Rapunzel,' she told him, 'it's a gimmick but hey.' ) about what he thought of her performance when the young man walked in.

"Hey, Robin," Phillip said, calling him over.

"Hey mate, thanks for letting Aurora do this, it'll be great." He clapped his friend on the back, before introducing himself to the group. "Robin Locksley," he said. Gold gave him a look. "Yes, my parents thought it was hysterically funny. The joke's on them, I really _am_ an archer."

"I don't _let_ Aurora do anything, you know that,." Quickly he explained, "Robin happens to be a trick shot artist with that bow. He and Rory have worked out this routine with balloons for the circus show."

"Can't rehearse here, of course, but the club is an old converted warehouse down the meat packing district. They've been letting us use the space to practice when they aren't open."

"Sounds a bit dangerous," Gold said.

"I'd say the same if I didn't know him, but I've seen it. It's amazing what he can do." At that point Aurora and Mei joined them and the conversation drifted, but he noticed that Regina was awfully quiet and when he looked, he could see that look, one he knew quite well. She was smitten. He filed that knowledge away with a smile for later.

The rest of the evening continued as before. Belle was one of the last, and when her turn came, she seemed to be focusing her attention only on him, as if she was dancing for him alone. Those images were bound to haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future, and he shifted his overcoat in his lap, hoping not to look like the dirty old man he knew he was. Still, something was definitely happening between them. It was probably wrong, and certainly a bad idea, but he discovered (much to his own consternation) that he didn't care. He would take whatever she was willing to give for as long as she was willing to give it. When she finished, there was a certain amount of cheering, especially from him.

"You've finally got that turn down perfectly," Abigail said. "I think next week you should start with full dress. Is your costume ready?  Any issues?"

"Almost.  I need more practice with the quick release, the busk is still stiff, and Astrid's shortening the skirt for me, since I changed shoes..." But he could see that she was glowing with pride at her success.

Abigail finally called a halt at 10:30 and everyone quickly packed up to leave. Fortunately Regina left rather quietly, while they were still going over notes with Astrid. She had seemed distracted and he didn't wish to be in a position for her to offer him a ride, as he was certain she had brought her car. Instead, he dropped a quiet word in Abby's ear about reviewing the contracts, earning him her heartfelt thanks and a promise to have him a copy tomorrow.

When Belle came out, Robert lost his train of thought. He wanted very much to invite her back to his house, which wasn't all that far away, but it was too soon and she was entirely too tempting and too tired.

"Are you going to walk me to the subway?" she asked with a smile.

"No," Gold said. "I am going to go against my nature, play the gentleman, and see you to your door. It's late."

"You have always been a perfect gentleman to me, but you don't need to..."

"Belle, I insist," Robert said. He was a man entirely too accustomed to getting his way, and she knew that. Usually she wouldn't allow it to work on her, but when they got downstairs, the earlier rain had picked up, as had the wind. Looking at him and then at the weather...well, she had wanted to spend more time with him anyway. He made a call and in moments a black car pulled up, and they hurried towards it. They tumbled into the back seat, not entirely soaked to the skin.

In the back, she dug around in her bag for the towel she kept there and after drying her face, and as much of the rest as she could, handed it to Robert.

"You are well prepared," he commented.

"I try, and the studio can be a little warm at times."

Once they had dried as much as they could (Robert had missed most of it because of his coat but his hair was positively dripping), she stowed the towel back in the bag. Unfortunately that was also when she realised exactly how chilled she was and started shivering. Robert cursed quietly and asked the driver to turn up the heat before putting an arm around her and pulling her close.

 "You'll get yourself wetter," she said but it was really only a token protest. It was hardly how she imagined getting closer to him, looking like a drowned rat and teeth chattering, but it was nice. At least until he asked her the question. She'd been hoping he didn't notice, but then he was observant. It was one of the things she liked about him.

"Why don't you like Regina? Have you two met before?  I mean outside the other night."

"No," she said uncomfortably.

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"I can't really explain it," Belle told him. "I just...she makes me uncomfortable."

"Ahhh, I was hoping for jealousy," Robert teased her just a little. But she could feel just a bit of a twist. Maybe there was some of that in her reaction to the other woman, though she would like to think not. She didn't see herself as a jealous person, certainly not unreasonably so. Besides, Robert didn't seem that way with Regina, but there was definitely some history there.

"Should I be?" she asked, hoping it sounded just as teasing. Belle was a little surprised when Robert burst out laughing.

"No, not ever," he told her, still laughing.

"She's a beautiful woman, why not?" she asked curiously. He stopped laughing, and she could see him weighing whether or not to tell her. She pressed closer to him, hoping he understood that she was going to be all right with whatever he said, realising it might be a little soon for these sort of confidences.

"She is," he agreed. "But, she was also almost my stepdaughter, so you can see why the idea is so amusing. It was a long time ago."

"Oh," Belle responded. It wasn't what she was expecting, but she admitted she didn't know exactly what she was expecting. Still, it lightened her heart just a bit. Unfortunately, it didn't have that affect on Robert. He had tensed against her, as if he was expecting...something. "Then I suppose I won't be jealous." She smiled up at him. "Robert, what's wrong?"

"I don't much like to think about that time in my life, or the man I was then. Or perhaps I just don't want to be reminded of how much older than you I am."

"Age is just a number," Belle said, as she settled closer. She was no longer cold, but she had no desire to move. In the hallway this evening, something had almost happened, and now that she was certain he was interested, she had every intention of doing the brave thing. "I'm interested in who a person is. People are layered."

"And how do you know that you want to know? I assure you, I am an old monster, rotten to the core."

"I don't believe that," Belle told him. She started to lean forward and saw his head dip to meet hers when the car stopped.

"We're here, Sir," the driver said. Robert cursed softly. She felt the same way. Before she could lose her nerve, she put a hand up to capture his cheek and kissed him. It was fairly quick, and chaste, as the other one they had shared on Sunday. But this was no accident, it was a deliberate act. Belle gathered her things and slipped from the car.

"Belle," he started.

"Call me tomorrow?" she asked as she hurried to the door.

He nodded. As he watched her disappear, Robert Gold suddenly felt better than he had in ages. He still wasn't sure what was happening or where it was going, but it was definitely going somewhere and he intended to enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's been a bit, and I had no good way of breaking this, so I gave you an extra long one this time. Thank you to all those following the story. I am a little slow because I have another story (Another World, a crossover with Stargate:Universe, because one is not enough) that I am trying to finish. Please, do all those lovely things, read, comment, and all like that.
> 
> Notes, Notes---  
> If you have never worn a proper corset or don't know the structure, the busk is the thing down the center front that can be popped open to get you out of it quickly. Getting you into it, that is only ever going to be so fast :)
> 
> Stuyvesant High School is a real place, one of the oldest of the specialty public schools in New York, specialising in Maths and Sciences. Getting in says a lot. 
> 
> The Meat Packing district used to be exactly that. Now it is a bit trendy with clubs and shops going into former warehouses and processing plants. It is west of Chelsea and the West Village, from just north of SoHo, to around 16th St.


	17. Openings

 

 

Robert Gold managed to make it almost until five o'clock before he broke down and called Belle. It wouldn't do to appear too anxious, he told himself. Instead, he had terrorized a few employees, one for failing to complete the revisions he had required for a contract in a timely fashion. Another was an accident, having the bad luck to be chatting with his personal assistant when he came out of his office in a hurry. He had tried to call Jefferson, but the man had said he was on to something and would speak to him later, before ringing off.

Finally something arrived that he could bury himself in, a contract to purchase several juicy pieces of real estate. That one of them happened to be where Spenser Consolidated kept their corporate offices, that was just a bonus as far as he was concerned. Albert had been trying to buy it for years with no success. Of course, he wasn't to know that the owner was also one of Gold's clients, a man whose legal work he had been handling personally since he had first set out on his own on this side of the Atlantic. He continued to do so long after he had stopped actively practicing law, just as a favour. He liked favours, certainly it was useful to have people owe them.

Not that he hadn't done the odd bit of legal work for Spenser, among other people. It was before they knew each other as well as they did now. It was also one of the reasons that they didn't get along. Not that Robert had ever particularly liked the man. But he also knew exactly where the bodies were buried, and Albert knew he knew. It had never sat well with the man.

But the elder Mr. Wilson was retiring and his son, who ran a successful software company and wasn't in New York all that often, wasn't interested in the real estate, or rather he wasn't interested in running it, or having to deal with having it run. So it was going, right to Gold. It was an arrangement that they had ever since he had helped the man amass it. Contemplating whether or not he should just raise Spenser's rent or evict him had managed to keep him busy and amused for a while, as he finished reviewing the final agreement and the contract, and added his signature. Gold slapped a note on it for them to ship him all the tenant leases and management company details as soon a possible. That had kept him going through lunch.

In the afternoon, a report landed on his desk, delivered by a very short, nervous researcher dubbed 'Bashful' because he was painfully shy and blushed if a girl so much as looked at him. Gold didn't care, honestly. If Robert needed someone to wade through public documents, find out the details of a specific deal, or do a title search back to the first dutchman to pitch a tent on any piece of land on this island, he was the man for the job. He picked up the report and opened it to the first page, the summary, and did a quick scan.

"How recent is the violation history?" he asked.

"Well, sir," the man said, looking at the desk in front of him rather than his boss. "I noted everything that had been confirmed and the fines assessed through yesterday. The unverified complaints are in the final section and are current through when I printed it. Maybe two hours?"

"Excellent," Gold said with a smirk. It was high praise from the boss and the man's ears turned a bright side of red that was almost unnatural. "I have two more tasks for you..." After he left, Gold called his PA to put a notification in the researcher's file for the next evaluation period. A beast he was, but no one accused him of not being fair. Then he settled back to read.

By the time he had finished, he had some very firm ideas about how to handle the situation and a bigger desire than ever to talk to Belle. He dropped the report and picked up his mobile.

The call went straight to voicemail and Robert cursed quietly. He hated talking to machines. He almost hung up, but he didn't want her to think...He felt like a fool, but he managed to leave his name and number, probably more stiffly than he meant it. Then he pressed the end button and started to contemplate his evening. He was supposed to have dinner with his son and grandson. Part of him wanted to cancel and go home to spend an evening reading through papers, but he enjoyed the time with Henry. He was trying to make these decisions when the phone rang.

"Gold," he snapped.

"Er...Robert? It's Belle, am I interrupting..." she asked cautiously.

He cursed himself roundly for allowing himself to snap at her, not to mention failing to look at the phone first, there weren't that many people who had the number. "No, not at all Belle," he reassured her. "Don't mind me I was distracted."

"You called. I wasn't certain you would," she said.

Gods, in addition to everything, she was refreshingly honest, completely the opposite of his only two serious lovers. "Of course I called, Belle. I..." he paused. Gold wasn't certain exactly what to say to her, but he knew that whatever he said, he had to be honest, and he was very bad at baring his soul. Caution was more than just a habit at this point. "I enjoy your company," he said finally. It was true and safe enough. It was certainly not all, but that might frighten her off.

"That's a very interesting statement, but I think I will take it as a compliment."

"It is, there are not a lot of people that I care to spend time with," he told her, hoping to get away from the topic of his limited social life and lack of friends. "But that's neither here nor there. What are your plans this evening?" he asked. If he was honest, he was hoping for an opening to ask her out to dinner again, preferably soon. In fact, if she was free, Bae would understand if he canceled...It was probably too soon, but he couldn't help asking. He was a greedy monster.

Belle sighed. "Unfortunately, I will be spending my evening in the launderette. The wash doesn't do itself, so I get to go home and haul it down the street."

"Doesn't your building have a laundry facility?" he asked, shuffling through some papers on his desk. He was certain he had seen something...

"It does, or it's supposed to."

"Then why are you..."

"One of the washers broke last week when my neighbour was washing her uniforms, and the dryers are broken, well one is definitely broken, it has a sign on it," she explained. "The other one doesn't actually heat, so while it will dry things eventually...Still, it's no big deal. I didn't call to complain about my laundry woes."

"Feel free to complain. In fact, have you made a complaint? It's chilly out and I think it's still raining." Robert said with concern.

"It is, and I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I'll be alright. It's warm at the launderette, and I can get some reading done. Now, Robert, I was going to have to call you if you hadn't called me. We are having a preview tomorrow night, a new exhibit at the museum at school. It's not open to the public yet, but I was part of the team that set it up. I was wondering if you might..."

"Yes," he said, not letting her get any further. If it was a night with her, he didn't care what it was.

"Are you sure?" she asked, laughing just a little. "You don't even know what it is yet."

"It doesn't matter." he said. "I...I'll get used to it, whatever it is, as long as it's for you."

Belle's laugh made him smile. "Well, we'll see about that. Meet me at the museum tomorrow at five thirty? Is that time good for you?"

"It is, yes."

"Perfect, just come on in and tell the guard, give him my name, he will tell you where I am. It won't be open yet, we have a few last minute finishing touches. But, I can take you for dinner this time. It might be the hot dog cart, but it is still my treat," she said firmly.

"I love hot dogs," Robert assured her. He didn't tell her he would eat damn near anything as long as he got to do it near her. Besides, when was the last time he ate a dirty water hot dog, when Bae was little?

"Good, and Robert," she said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"You won't need the tie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who love this story. Just a little bit to tide you over and a hint of what is to come. Please read, comment and all those things, because you know they keep me at it. 
> 
> If you like this story, and you haven't checked it out, there is another one in this 'verse, 'Not those Showgirls' based on a prompt for my prompt challenge. Drop by and give it a read and tell me what you think. 
> 
> Notes-  
> The museum that Belle is talking about is the Museum at FIT, which is a museum dedicated to fashion, costume and the designer arts. It is actually a part of the school and some of the programs do work with it directly. 
> 
> New York 'dirty water' hot dogs are well known and well beloved, as is the vender who is set up in front of FIT who has been despensing dogs and conversation to students for years. Also highly recommended.


	18. Not what I expected.

Gold was distracted at dinner, he knew that, his thoughts drifting to a certain young lady in a grimy launderette. At least he knew Jefferson still had a man on her, keeping her safe. Otherwise, he would have found a way to go out there himself. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It wasn't that Robert didn't enjoy spending time with his son and grandson. He did. It was just...

"Then we thought we would get Henry a giraffe for his birthday. It will fit in the loft and think of the savings taking things up to the bedroom."

"What?" Gold said, confusion writ large across his face.

"You checked out there for a minute, Papa. You haven't even heard a word I've said."

"Sorry Bae, just have things on me mind," he said. The two men were sitting in the living area of the loft, finishing glasses of wine. Henry had been put to bed after the prerequisite reading of his favourite story and now they were catching up, or rather Bae was catching his father up and Gold was thinking.

"Something about a certain pretty brunette you've been seeing maybe?" his son asked.

"It's not..."

"That's not what Abby said. Did you enjoy the rehearsal last night?"

"Keeping tabs on me, son?" Robert asked. "I'll thank you to stay out of it. Respect my privacy please. Belle and I are...friends," he said finally, though the word seemed inadequate.

"Is that what you call it? Because..." Bae started. It was embarrassing to have his grown son poking into his life like that. At the same time, he wanted to know. It was so very primary school, 'did she say anything about me', 'does she like me?'. He wasn't going to stoop to that level. Not now, not with his son ever. "Papa, it's okay, you know," the young man said hesitantly. "If that's what's bothering you. Abby says she's great and, well, I want you to be happy. "

"Thank you son. But regardless of what you think, I'm not certain that Belle sees me in that way. She's very young, and very..."

"Dad, you met her, what, week, week and a half ago?"

"Something like that, yes," he replied not sure what his son was getting at.

"And since then, you've seen her twice, besides going to two shows?" Bae questioned carefully.

"Yes."

"Dinner?"

"Well, of course we had dinner," Robert snapped.

"How many times have you had dinner with her?"

"Three times, not that it's any of your..."

"And do you have plans to see her again?" Bae was clearly leading up to something.

"Tomorrow night," he admitted, giving in. "It's an exhibition at FIT that she worked on. They are doing a bit of a preview."

"Trust me, Papa, you've been out of the dating thing for a while. She likes you and not just as a friend. And I think you feel the same, am I right?" his son asked looking him in the eye. Brown, prying eyes, just like his grandson.

"I do not need dating advice from my son, thank you," he growled. "Of course I'm bloody interested in her." He wasn't going to say 'liked', the euphemism was too juvenile. "She's intelligent, witty, well read..."

"Beautiful?" Bae suggested helpfully.

"And that."

"I'm just going to say two things, Papa, and then I'll drop it. Go for it. She makes you happier than I've seen you in a long while, and you should be happy. "

"And the other thing?" he asked, hoping it had nothing to do with more private pursuits.

"Don't Screw This Up. You may be the Beast in the business world, but she's not a client or a business competitor. You can let her in. Take a chance."

 

Friday saw Gold burying himself in his work again, to distract him. The information his researcher had dug up, (he really should give that lad a pay rise) made for very interesting reading, as did the report. The owner was, at best, a fool, the management company inept, or possibly corrupt, and the less said about the building super, the better. Just the list of reported violations made him furious, heat not turned on, a dispensation for boiler work in the middle of winter that should have been checked in the fall, then the work left for weeks 'waiting for parts', the security door rigged to stay unlocked, no hot water, and those were just common repeat violations.

He made some notes, and a call to get Walter out there to poke around. The man had forgotten more than most people would ever know about building maintenance. Meanwhile, the owner was losing a ridiculous amount of money in fines. Interestingly, the man also appeared to be significantly behind in paying them. ' _Oh, this is going to be far easier than I imagined, and a great deal of fun,'_ he thought to himself.

Gold looked at the page with the names, personal information and contact for the owner, and the principles of the management company. Then he checked the time, and took a guess at the distance to sundown at this time of year. before deciding it was too late in the day. There was not enough time to even begin negotiations on a Friday afternoon, certainly they wouldn't want to. Such things should not be hurried. Besides, Gold decided he would like a wee bit more leverage. Walter was going out. Gold wasn't sure how he did what he did, but he never asked. Instead he picked up the phone. Something he had seen in the notes had him a bit curious. He dialed his daughter in law.

"Swan," she answered abruptly.

"Emma, remember that favour you owe me? I am calling it in." He explained what he needed quickly.

"That's it? Are you sure? I mean, most of this stuff is public record, why..."

"Yes, but that takes time. I want to move quickly on this. I'd also like to know if there are any ongoing operations in that neighbourhood. I have no interest in interferring if there are, but since I'm considering the purchase, and there are some complaints..."

"You want to know what to expect. Got it. One condition. If there are, and your deal goes through..."

"Which it will. They will have my full cooperation."

"I can tell them that? I'm going to have to poke a couple people in Brooklyn, and UC is a pretty tight lipped bunch," she warned.

"I doubt there is something major going on there, but..."

"But.." she prompted.

"There were some interesting flags that came up. Including a notation of a report to 311 about illegal activities that wasn't followed up on."

"Hmmm, why the interest, Gold? You usually have people for this kind of thing."

"I can't do my duty as a concerned citizen?" he asked.

"Really? That's what you're going with? Try again." He sighed. His daughter in law was a smart one. "Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain friend of yours, would it?" she asked. He groaned inwardly. It was bad enough from Bae.

"Why would you think that, and since when do you care?" he asked, sharply. The two of them had an interesting relationship. They sniped and snapped at one another, but it was all surface, and they both knew it.

"Since I remembered that she lives in Brooklyn. I know you, Gold," she said quietly. It was as close to care as she would admit. "I'll let you know as soon as I can." It was one of the things he liked about Emma Swan, she understood when not to push the issue.

 Gold took off his tie and examined his reflection in the glass. Brown hair, streaked with grey, nose too long, too skinny, crippled...all the things that Milah used to throw at him. But Belle wasn't Milah. The deep burgundy shirt looked well enough, the dark suit...He took a moment and then removed his vest and replaced his jacket. It wasn't terribly casual, but it would have to do.

 

Dove dropped him at the barricade at 7th Avenue and 27th, where the road that ran through the campus of the Fashion Institute of Technology was closed to vehicle traffic. The front of the museum held a crowd of people, most of them carrying bookbags, portfolios, and other student paraphernalia. There were the fashion design students, clearly trying out their ideas on themselves with varying degrees of skill and success, marketing students, more staid but not quite as dull as the usual business types. There were interior design students with swatch books, and art students with a variety of projects. Professors mingled. All talking, smoking, and eating under the overhang formed where the two buildings connected over 27th. It wasn't raining at the moment, but no one wanted to take the chance with their hard work.

He passed through the crowd and entered the doors.

"Excuse me, sir, the museum is closed," the security guard at the desk said.

"Yes, I know. I'm meeting Belle, Belle French."

"Mr. Gold?" he asked with a smile. Clearly Belle had charmed him as well. "Yes sir." He looked down at his list. "Just let me see your ID and I'll send you back." The man made a note, checked the ID presented to him, and gave him a quick set of directions before returning to his crossword.

As he turned the corner, he saw the entrance and smiled. 'Fairy Tale Costumes in Film and Television', it sounded like something she would love. Carefully, he entered the main display area, his cane tapping sharply on the marble tiles announcing his arrival.

There were three people in the area. A young man was adjusting some lights, his hair flashing blue as it passed over the beam. There was a blond woman fixing a mannikin while giving him instructions as well, and Belle. "Just a little to the left, Archie," the blond said, focusing on what she was doing.

"Robert?" Belle asked. She was standing almost on top of a tall stepladder, looking around carefully for the source of the sound.

"Yes," he said. "What are you doing?" He moved to stand near her at the foot of the ladder.

"Trying to get this drape down. We aren't putting anything here, so I don't know who put it up, but it's messing with the light. What did they do, nail it down?" she growled in frustration.

"Maybe," the young man called Archie said. "Could be someone's idea of a practical joke. It wasn't there yesterday."

"I think I almost..." Belle said, getting higher and stretching her arm up. "I..."

Then it happened. Time seemed to slow. The drape came free suddenly in her hands and Belle lost her balance. She was tumbling backwards toward the floor. Without a thought, Gold dropped his cane and grabbed her by the waist. The cane clattered to the floor and there was a shocked silence.

"You caught me," Belle said.

Then his ankle collapsed under them and they landed on the floor together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all. This scene wouldn't let me sleep last night, but I didn't get it typed up earlier. Hope you enjoy my take on a familiar moment, even if it doesn't go to plan. As usual, please comment, let me know how I am doing, or if there is something you think ought to be in here. 
> 
> A few notes--
> 
> In New York City, we have tenent's rights. That means that there is a standard to which landlords need to adhere, things like heat and hot water. If they aren't, you can report it, which, if verified, will cause the owners to incurr fines. These things are a matter of public record. It doesn't always help, but it can. If nothing else, the fines can make not repairing it more expensive for the owners. 
> 
> BTW, if you know anything about New York and the Neighbourhoods involved, you can take a guess at why Friday afternoon would not be a good time to open negotionations.


	19. After the fall

 

"Robert!" Belle exclaimed as she tried to extract herself from the drape and his legs. "Are you all right?" she asked, slightly panicked. "I'm so..."

"'s fine, Belle, really. Are you all right?" he asked. Archie was beside them, wadding up the drape, while Cheryl gave Belle a hand up.

"I should never have let you on that ladder," the blond said. "You aren't really good with heights."

"I'm fine, Cheryl, really, it's Robert..." She reached down and offered Gold her hand. Archie had uncovered his cane and offered it to him.

"I'll be all..." Robert Gold said, or started to, until the weight landed on his ruined leg. Pain shot through him, the likes of which he couldn't remember since the original injury. For a moment, his vision swam and he almost lost his footing again, only able to remain upright by sheer force of will.

"Robert?" Belle asked worriedly. "Archie, grab a chair. Should we call 911?" She maneuvered herself under his arm so that he could lean on her and limit the weight.

"Belle," he said, his voice a little shaky in his own ears. "I'm sure it will be fine, I just..."

"You need a doctor, maybe an x-ray. You should have let me fall, it wasn't that far. I can't believe..." He could see guilt and worry swamping her. He couldn't bear to see her that way.

"No, never say that. I'll be fine, I just need a moment," he said. Archie returned with a chair and she helped him to sit, before dropping down to her knees in front of him. "What are you doing?" he asked. Despite the pain, his mind filled with all manner of inappropriate thoughts, though it did distract him from the pain.

"Taking a look," she said, reaching for his ankle, but he pulled it away.

"You don't want to see that," he told her. No reason to expose her to his scars.

"I need to see how bad you've hurt yourself," she said reasonably, reaching stubbornly for his pant leg.

Archie had gone off with the drape and Cheryl with the offending stepladder, and the two of them were alone in the gallery. Well, them, the Wicked Witch of the West, the Evil Queen, Maleficent, and a few others that Robert wasn't familiar with. This part of the exhibit was clearly devoted to the villains. _'Perfect, just where I belong,_ ' he thought wryly. "It's not a pretty sight on the best day, dear," he said laying a hand on hers.

"I'm not going to run screaming," she responded with a smile, leaning in closer to him. "Now, let's see..." She put her hand on his ankle and he couldn't hold back a wince. "Sorry," she said, pushing up his pant leg.

At any other time, Belle's hand up his calf would have sent him straight off for a cold shower, but at the moment he was distracted by the pain. He muttered a few curses both in English and Gaidhlig, the only words he knew in the language that his father had only used for the exact same purpose. He was trying to convince himself it was nothing, that he could just take himself home to a scotch and an ice pack, but it wasn't working.

She'd not even got as far as pushing down his sock when she stopped. "Robert, it's swelling already and don't tell me otherwise. We need to get you to the hospital now. I'll call 911 and..."

"There's no need for the fuss. I'll call a car, it'll be fine," he said, hoping to reassure her. His night was ruined, but that was no reason for her's to be. "Just let me..." He fished in his pocket for the phone.

"I'm coming with you," she told him stubbornly.

"What about your..." he said, waving a hand around him.

"It's not a big thing. I have seen it before, you know. Besides, I'll be back for the official opening. This was just a walk through, a sneak preview, you might say."

It was then that he realised, this wasn't like the museum preview that he had taken her to. This was a sneak preview, probably for those involved and their...well their special people. He smiled at the thought.

"You don't need to have you evening ruined," he told her.

"You were my evening," she said, boldly, though whether she meant it or it was the shock, he didn't want to hazard a guess. Robert found himself giving in. There was nothing he could say to that, or nothing he wanted to. He could consider what it meant later, much later.

 

One phone call, and the assistance of the security guard (much to his embarrassment) who babbled about needing to report the accident before Gold cut him off, they were in the back of the car, with Dove behind the wheel. Gold spared a brief thought to what Belle would think when she realised it wasn't a car service, but then Belle was sitting close to him, holding his hand and he decided he didn't much care.

"Bellevue or Beth Israel, sir?" Dove had asked without even a blink.

"Whichever is faster," Belle answered for him, voice thick with concern. Dove nodded and they were off.

"Sorry about this, Belle," he said for the third time.

"Stop," she said. She couldn't believe he was apologising to her. She was the clumsy idiot who had fallen on him. Here was a man she genuinely liked and, she admitted, was more that a little (or a lot) attracted to and she had to go and ruin it. After this he would never want to see her again. She turned away, the shock finally catching up with her. Tears were starting to burn in her eyes, and she didn't want him to see her cry.

"Belle?" Robert said, concerned. She felt his hand on her cheek, turning her back to him. "Hey, there's nothing to worry about."

"Don't...I ruined..."

"Shhhh," he told her, and pulled her closer to him, fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. "It's just the shock. Everything will be fine. We'll just have to reschedule our hot dog date."

She looked up at him, brown eyes full of concern and trying to make her smile. It wasn't his injury he was worried about, she realised, it was her. Perhaps, maybe she hadn't ruined things too badly?

 

In what seemed a short time, they were outside the Bellevue ER. Belle jumped out and went to get someone, though Robert said he could walk. Honestly he was grateful, he didn't want her to see how much pain he was in, but he honestly wasn't certain he could have walked. She was right, it was swelling and considering the condition it was in before this, it was bound to be unpleasant. In moments, she was back with a nurse or orderly rolling a wheelchair.

"Shall I wait, sir?" Dove said, with no trace of humour.

"It's like to be a while, go have your dinner and come back. If by some miracle it takes less time, I will call," Gold said as he dragged himself out of the vehicle, trying and failing to resist help in getting himself into the wheelchair.

Two hours later, he had been shown to a cubicle. They had tried to separate Belle from him, some nonsense about immediate family only, but he'd sent her to get them both a coffee. Then he pointed out to the busybody on duty that he had the head of the hospital board's phone numbers, all of them, and that if she did _not_ want to deal with the trouble he would gladly rain down on her, she would leave them alone. To give her credit, she paled, agreed, and after telling him that the nurse would be in for his details before taking him to x-ray, fled. When Belle had returned, he was busy arguing with the nurse over pain medication.

"Are you giving them a hard time?" she asked gently, giving him his coffee. Neither of them was a coffee drinker, but machine coffee was marginally better than machine tea, which is to say only utter crap.

"He's refusing medication for the pain that he is clearly in," the nurse told her with a smile. "I can't make you take it, but it's best to get out ahead of it. They are going to take you to x-ray now. Ms. Gold, you can wait right down the hall," she told her.

"Oh, I'm..." she started, but Robert winked at her.

"Yes, dearie, please," he said. Belle didn't argue. They were letting her stay with him, and if they wanted to believe she was his...well the nurse had been very neutral.

"Do you want me to call Bae?" she asked. Not that she would know what to say to the son she had met once for five minutes, but Belle thought it best to ask.

"No need, there is nothing he can do. He and Emma were having a night out tonight. Let them have their fun." They rolled him off to x ray and left her sitting in the family's waiting room, holding his 'personal effects'. It was about that time that she realised that in her haste, she had left everything in her locker, including her purse. They weren't supposed to leave anything overnight, but that wasn't what she was concerned about. All of her cash, her housekeys, even her metro card, were in her purse. Of course there was nothing she could do about it now, except call Cheryl and ask her to let someone know. That done, she had only to worry about Robert and what she was going to do after they left. Perhaps he would loan her the money to get the subway to Ruby's, she was always good for crash space, or maybe he would drop her off. It was while she was caught up in these thoughts, that the nurse called for her. She had to call twice. Belle wasn't used to answering to Ms. Gold. It was a bit disconcerting, as they weren't even dating. ' _Yet_ ', her traitorous heart whispered.

When she was shown to a different cubicle, Robert was not alone. The man in the lab coat was tall, blonde and when he looked at her, she suddenly felt as if she wasn't wearing enough clothes. "Hello, and you are..."

"None of your business, Whale, you quack, and I'll thank you to keep yer eyes on the chart," Gold growled as he reached out for her, and Belle went immediately to his side, taking comfort from his hand in hers.

"Okay, you know I would rather admit you overnight, but you won't listen to me. The nurse has your prescriptions for you. Keep off it for the weekend, and elevated. I'll want you to come into the office on Monday. I want another set of films then. It might be time to reconsider..." But whatever the doctor was going to say, Gold cut him off.

"Yes, well, we can talk about that later, now can't we?" he cut him off. "Is that all then?"

"It is, but Gold, I can't stress this enough, stay off your ankle. Nurse Bradford will bring you some crutches before you leave as well," he told him. "It was nice meeting you," the doctor said with what was probably his charming smile. Belle just nodded and returned her attention to Robert.

After over two hours in the hospital, they were finally back out. He hadn't wanted to be wheeled out, but they insisted, along with giving him a pair of crutches, which the driver put in the trunk. "Hate that place, gives me the collywobbles, and then there is Whale. He's perfectly competent, actually he's almost as brilliant as he thinks. Pity he's such a smarmy bastard. Now, how about dinner?" he asked her.

"You are supposed to go home and elevate your foot," she reminded him. "And what are you going to do about staying off it? You...you live alone don't you?" Belle asked. Oh, she knew he was single, Abby had told her that, but she knew nothing about his living situation.

"Since Bae moved out, yes. How about..." he paused, but the pain medication they had finally gotten into him made him bold. "We could go back to my house, order something in?" Robert asked.

"I think I would like that," she told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying with me. I wasn't certain about this part, so please comment and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Notes--Bellevue and Beth Israel are hospitals in the lower part of Manhattan on the East side. Many people are familiar with Bellevue for the fact that in addition to a hospital (the oldest continously operated hospital in the US) it is known for its psychiatric facility. It has a...colourful history, but it's convienant.


	20. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's first look at Robert's home.

 

They pulled up in front of the brownstone on the West side, not too far from the park though Belle wasn't paying all that much attention to where they were. She wasn't particularly surprised. After all it wasn't far from either the restaurant or the rehearsal site. After all, he had never said where _exactly_ he lived. She had more or less assumed Manhattan. Besides, it looked like the sort of place he would live. She had figured Robert for a brownstone or at least a pre-war sort. Dove helped him out of the car while she followed carrying his shoe, sock, and briefcase.

He fumbled for the keys and led them into a central hallway. Belle admitted to gawking just a little. She was wondering how it was divided as she followed the two men in and through a pair of wooden pocket doors into a sitting room decorated with what she was almost certain were antiques, and books, lots of books. It was hard not to stop and look but with luck, there would be time later. While Dove helped him down, she busied herself pulling a large pouf over to the sofa. Then Belle looked around, and grabbed a throw pillow to put on top, and fussed a bit, helping him get comfortable. The big man accepted the thanks and left without even a word.

"I'm fine," Robert said finally, unable to stand seeing her so flustered. "Really, I'm fine. Please, sit down." Belle took a seat on the couch next to him, wondering why she was suddenly so nervous. Robert seemed to have picked up on it as well and he smiled gently at her. "You know, contrary to popular belief, I don't usually bite."

"I know that," she told him, trying to smile back. "I just...I feel guilty."

"Nothing to feel guilty for, I'd rather this than you getting hurt. Now, why don't you pop down to the kitchen. It's just down the back stairs. The delivery menus are in a rack next to the phone. Some food will do us both good. Besides, I think that quack slipped me some pain medication."

"Why would he do that, and if he's a quack, why do you go to him? Clearly he wasn't just the doctor on call."

"Actually he _was_ the orthopedist on call, and he knows I don't like pain medication. I'm not fond of having my senses dulled. I go to him because he is a brilliant quack, almost but not quite as brilliant as he thinks he is. Doesn't mean I have to like or encourage him," he told her with a wicked grin.

"I think you like playing at being a beast," she replied with an answering smile.

"Oh, you think so? No, I really am the monster people think I am." Robert gave her what he probably thought was his best evil leer. She laughed.

"You are no monster."

"Are you so certain? I've managed to lure you into my lair, haven't I?"

"If that was your idea of an evil plan, I'm sorry to say, it needs work. Shall I make tea while I'm getting the menus?"

"Please. The tea things are in the cupboard next to the stove." She rose and started toward the door. "Belle, thank you."

 

It was when she was back in the front hall that Belle realised that it couldn't possibly be divided. She stood in the hall for a moment, taking it all in. The same sense of old fashioned style ruled here, even in the hall. The place had been restored to period, or possibly always been kept up. There was an antique coat tree and a table, wooden and highly polished, that held a vase, and a basket for mail, with a mirror on the wall behind it. The rug was an oriental carpet, and the floors were all wood. A chandelier hung from the ceiling in the center of a medallion that if it was original probably weigh a fair bit.

Belle had known that Robert wasn't poor. His suits were well made, designer, and probably bespoke, and he was connected with Abby's father in some way, but a whole brownstone in the Seventies? Still, it didn't and wasn't going to affect her view of him. What did that matter, when they enjoyed spending time together? _People might assume..._ a voice that sounded remarkably like her great aunt Sadie whispered, but she shut it down viciously. None of her friends would think that, and regardless of what or where things were going, it was no one's business but theirs. Besides, she'd always hated her great aunt Sadie. Belle resolved then and there to ignore that kind of thinking. She preferred her mother's advice. Colette had always told her to take people as she found them, and trust her instincts. Putting it all out of her mind, she went looking for the back staircase, and found it.

She made her way down to the ground floor by way of the staircase, narrower than the grand one near the door. The hall at the bottom was less grand, though still nice, more utilitarian. There was a rack on the wall for coats, holding a couple already, a door that probably led out the lower entrance, what would have been the service entrance when it was built, and a simple runner on the wooden floor. There were also a few doors. Taking a guess based on a half remembered architecture and New York City course she'd taken on a lark, she went for the door on the opposite end of the hall than the front, passed the stair. As she went to open it, she saw another door, under the staircase, probably leading to the cellar.

But when Belle opened her chosen door, she was rewarded with a modern kitchen. There was a light burning over the stove, but she found a switch near her that flooded the room with light. It was a large kitchen for New York, even larger for Manhattan. Of course that meant very little. Her kitchen would fit in her father's tool closet at home. She considered herself lucky to have a bathroom that had room for a toilet without her feet under a sink so small she could have washed out nothing larger than a pair of knickers, like the one at Astrid's.

Robert's kitchen was a clean, well laid out space and she thought, probably a joy to cook in. She wondered if he did much cooking himself, or if he would be willing to let her cook for him. Belle enjoyed cooking but with her broom cupboard kitchen, there wasn't a lot of room. The kettle was on the hob, and she poured out the water and refilled it, before opening the cabinet. Inside, easily reachable was a tin of Yorkshire Gold, a strainer, and, on a second shelf, an old fashioned tea pot, much like the one at her father's house.

Getting the tea ready was easy, finding something to carry everything was a different story. She didn't want him to think she was rifling his cupboards. Looking around, she tried to think about it logically. The kitchen had been laid our for convience, from what she could see, so it shouldn't be hard, and after all, he owned all the usual things, surely he had a tea tray. It only took two tries, but the second long, thin cabinet had exactly what she wanted. Belle added the sugar bowl, cream pitcher and menus to the tray, and went back up the stairs carefully.

"Not too much trouble, then?"

"No, I didn't know how you took your tea though," she told him as she went to set the tray down on the table. But as she leaned over, one of the china cups tumbled off the tray, much to her mortification, and struck the table leg. "Oh, no," she cried out, bending down for it. "I'm so sorry. It...it's chipped," Belle said, holding it out for him to inspect. Once again, she felt as if she had done something monumentally wrong and was trying hard not to get too upset, she would leave that to him.

"It's only a cup, love," he said, putting a hand on hers. "It'll be fine."

"I'll got get..."

"No need, I can get used to it. It's got...character," he said. Belle wanted to die, or possibly just sink into the floor, but he didn't even seem bothered. Instead, he encouraged her back onto the sofa and poured out. "Now, shall we indulge in a different New York tradition from the one we originally planned?"

"Which one?" Belle asked, slowly calming with a cup of tea in her hands. Things always seemed better with tea.

"Chinese delivery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long. I'm in the middle of a lot of things, including having just gotten home from visiting family. I hope you enjoy it anyway. There is a bit of fluff, a bit of fun, and my Sequins and Feathers take on a different pivotal scene from the show. Please read, comment, and all those lovely things that make me want to keep writing. 
> 
>  
> 
> Notes---  
> A brownstone, for those who aren't familiar, is essentially a townhouse, named for the brown stone facade on many of them. Most of the older ones, especially in Manhattan have been broken into apartments and/or office space, though some are still in private hands. The layout is based on my own knowledge of brownstone architecture, and the fact that I live in the bottom half of one myself. 
> 
> The ceiling medallions are those decorative features seen in older homes. What most people don't realise (and I certanly didn't until the one in my upstairs sewing room decided it no longer wanted to occupy the ceiling and fell to the floor) is that they are much larger than they look from ground level, and are solid plaster, so heavy as hell. 
> 
> The bathroom and kitchen comments are based on two different friend's actual apartments, including the bit about sitting on the toilet with your feet under the sink. (I've never understood how her husband actually got into that bathroom. You will also find them in a lot of small, non chain restaurants. 
> 
> Yes, we do have chinese delievery and all hours of the day and night, along with Thai, Vietnamese, and probably every other thing you can think of. There is a McDonald's in the West Village that advertises delievery but with all the other good food in this city, I don't know anyone who has ever done it. And really, why would you?


	21. Dinner conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner and talk

The food had been ordered and Belle was curled up on the sofa when her phone rang. She picked it up apologetically, mouthing 'Cheryl'.

"Hey Belle," she said. "Is your friend all right?"

"He will be, I think. Did you let someone know about my stuff or..."

"It's okay, I've got it all. I grabbed it when I realised that you'd rushed off without it. Then I got your text. But I'm already home. Will you be okay until tomorrow?"

Belle thought about it for a moment. She had her phone, and maybe enough in her pockets for a one way fare to Ruby's. Cheryl lived all the way up town in Washington Heights, but Ruby would lend her a couple and hopefully something clean. They weren't really the same size, but she'd have a tee shirt at least. "Yes, I'm sure Ruby'll let me crash."

"Or maybe your friend..." Cheryl suggested. God, not her too. Belle wanted to groan.

"I'll call you in the morning, I've got to go," she said and rung off. Gold gave her an inquiring look, though he didn't ask. "We left in such a hurry," Belle told him. "I just...I left everything in my locker." He nodded, understanding dawning. "It's not a problem, Cheryl has got my things, but she lives all the way uptown. It's not a big deal though. I can call Ruby. She will let me sleep on her couch, It's hardly the first time," she reassured him.

"I was just noticing that you were without your usual encumbrances. But why would you need..." Robert asked.

"Bit embarrassing, but my purse was in my locker. I've not got my house keys."

"Ahhhh," he said. Silence fell between them as they sat and sipped tea. He took a moment, considering. "Belle, you know you could..."

"What?" she asked.

"Stay?" He made it a question. "I have plenty of extra room," he said quickly, anxious to reassure her that he was not attempting to take advantage, not that he could if he wanted to, not with the state of his leg. Maybe it was time to reconsider the surgery the quack was suggesting, but that was for later.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to put you out," she said, but he could see that the idea had appeal.

"It wouldn't be putting me out. If anything it would be a blessing. The quack wants me with my leg up. Having you to keep me company will prevent me getting bored."

"I...I have nothing to..." she started, but he could tell by the tone in her voice that her heart wasn't in it.

"I'm certain there's something that will do. Besides, I just noticed, you've come out without even a coat," Robert accused. "Are you warm enough? I can turn the heating up, if you need. Why didn't you say?"

"I'm fine, really. I didn't even notice until we were at the hospital. It's plenty warm here, much warmer than my apartment is right now. But, if I won't be a bother, I..." she changed the subject, but he'd caught it.

"It's no bother at all. In fact, I'm delighted to have an excuse to have your company longer. See, I told you, lured into my lair," he said, mischievously rubbing his hands together.

"AH, but I'm staying because I want to," Belle told him with a smile.

There there was a sound, the ringing of the bell. "I'll get it," she told him. "It's probably the dinner."

"Yes, would you sign for me?" Robert asked. "Please."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course, what would you do, give him an overlarge tip? I trust you, Belle. Besides, I just realised I need to make a quick telephone call," he told her.

"All right, but you'll stay right there?" Belle asked as the ringing came again.

"Rooted to the spot," he replied. "Monster's honour." She shot him a look, but he shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. "I was never a scout."

The smile faded the moment Belle was out of sight. He picked up the telephone and dialed a number from memory. "I want that inspection done, tomorrow," he said without preamble when the startled voice answered.

"That's going to cost," the man said.

"Just do it."

"Any idea what I'm supposed to be looking for?"

"I'll let you make that determination," Gold said, all business. "But I want particular attention paid to the heating system and the hot water."

"Got it, Boss. Think they are playing games?"

"Let us say, I suspect some malfeasance, either that or rampant stupidity."

"Why choose?" the other man said. "Either way, boss, I'll get you your answers."

"Good," Gold smiled. It was a smile that tended to put the fear of Gold into his opponents, or had them climbing over one another to be the first to the negotiating table. Then Belle reentered the room, carrying a bag of food, and it blossomed into something else, something few people would recognise on his face, joy.

"I thought we'd best eat in here, if you don't mind?" Honestly, he didn't care. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was here, and she was going to stay, even if it was only for the night in a guest room. Perhaps...he didn't allow that thought to develop, but neither did he quash it.

They made it most of the way through dinner, happily eating, sharing their food with one another. He enjoyed the fact that Belle ate, and enjoyed it, with not a word about salads or needing to watch her figure, though he would gladly watch it for her. The conversation was pleasant and they laughed and argued pleasantly. How long had it been since he'd genuinely laughed with a woman before Belle? He couldn't remember

"Oh, you've got a bit," she pointed, then seemingly without thought, she leaned closer with her napkin and wiped the side of his mouth. It had been so natural, so comfortable, but it had also highlighted that something was happening between them.

Carefully, Robert caught her hand, giving her every chance to pull away. When she didn't, he placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, his eyes locked with hers.

"Perhaps...Belle, I..." he started, then paused. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea, but at the same time, he was tired of avoiding his growing feelings. He took a deep breath. Gold had always been better at intimidation than intimacy. "When I asked you to stay, I didn't mean to suggest..." She started to say something, but he stopped her. "Belle, I want you to stay, and I'm not expecting anything of you. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't deeply attracted to you, more than I have been in...well, in a very long time. If," he paused to swallow, his mouth suddenly desert dry. "If you don't..." Before he could continue, his arms were full of Belle, her lips pressed to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is short, but it really needed to break where it did. Thank you for all the lovely comments, I hope this meets expectations. Let me know.


	22. Making progress...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Belle have a little talk.

Robert Gold froze. For just a moment he was unable to process exactly what had happened. Then his body took over. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. It was a completely different animal from the two other kisses they had shared, nothing at all tentative about it, no accident, no excuse. That she was in his arms gave him the answer he wanted, and he could worry about the hows and whys later. Instead he took his time and explored her mouth, teasing her lips open for him and then slowly mapping her responses, new territory, and a path to be remembered.  Something in the back of his mind was telling him to slow down, and he would, later, he assured himself. Then her arms wrapped around him, and one had found its way into his hair, and he found his thoughts drifting to places they absolutely should not go right now, though he was having a very hard time trying to remember exactly why.

Finally they broke apart, both breathing harder. Robert looked at Belle. She was flushed, breath coming in little pants, eyes sparkling in a way that caused his masculine pride to swell. "Been wanting to do that," he said. "But I dinna want you to get the wrong idea. I was afraid you would take me for a right old pervert." He had not released her, or not further than was absolutely necessary to be able to look into her eyes.

Belle felt her heart begin pounding even harder. His accent had thickened a bit and she realised he had no idea exactly what his tone of voice was doing to her insides. "And I was afraid you would think I was just a silly woman with my dancing and all, not that..."

"I never,' he told her. "But what beautiful woman like you could possibly..."

"Shhh," she said. "You have no idea exactly how handsome you are." Belle was feeling just a little emboldened by his admission. She let her hand drift back into his long hair. "I've been wanting to do this since practically the moment we met."

"I stand by what I said, Belle," Robert said. He needed to say it, to remind himself if not her. It would be too easy to let themselves just forget everything. Part of him wanted to do exactly that, but it was squashed by the voice that was reminding him that he wanted all of her. He'd been given an opportunity that he could hardly imagine, he was determined to do it right. Belle was important, she deserved...everything. "I want you to stay and only to sleep. Don't think that..."

"I don't," she told him. "You don't need to tell me again. You're hurt and well..." she paused, biting her lower lip self consciously.

"What?" he asked encouragingly, running a thumb soothingly over her lip.

"It's been a while," she said quietly to his shoulder.

"For me as well," Robert assured her. "We will take as much time as you need. I'd like to court you properly." He gave her a lopsided smile, and stroked a hand through her hair and she wanted to just melt into him. Belle didn't particularly want to wait, though the idea of him 'courting her properly' made a flock of butterflies that had settled quietly after their kiss, start doing ariel acrobatics in her stomach, while his tone made something much lower clench. But at least it meant she didn't have to explain. She could just pop by Monday and make an appointment with campus health services for the next available to get a prescription.

The reminder that she hadn't renewed her pills in a while was enough to cool her just a little. After all, she agreed with the idea of taking their time, at least intellectually. From their talks, it was clear that she wasn't the only one who had some bad relationships in the past. It was also clear that Robert wanted more than a hook up or a casual fling, and so did she.

Belle refused to acknowledge that when the nurse had called her 'Ms. Gold' it gave her just a little bit of a warm flutter. It wasn't going to be that easy. There was the age difference, though that seemed to bother him more than her. Then there was the economic difference and the fact that if something came of it, there were bound to be those who called her a gold digger or worse. But she decided, as she had earlier, to put that out of her mind for now.

"We should finish eating," Robert told her. "The food will get cold."

 

The rest of the meal passed in a happy blur for Belle. Robert refused to let go of her, saying that now he'd gother in his arms, he'd not let go 'til he had to. Instead, she'd moved her plate closer and they finished up feeding one another bits from their own chopsticks between kisses.

"Have your cookie," Belle said, passing him a cellophane wrapped fortune cookie and taking her own to open.

"Well, read it out," he said as soon as she cracked it. "It's tradition, something that Bae's always insisted on."

"Ruby and Rory are the same. All right then." She took the little slip of paper. "Anything you do, do well, in bed." The last slipped out without conscious thought followed almost instantly by a blush from her toenails up. "It's a stupid game, Ruby's idea of fun. You...er... add 'in bed' to the ending of any fortune cookie message. It's..."

"It's good advice, with or without addendum," he said, giving her a look that replaced the embarrassment with a blush of an entirely different sort. "My turn then?" he asked. "Very well. 'Humour usually works at the moment of awkwardness...in bed." They both laughed. "I can see Ruby's point," Robert told her. "Definitely livens things up." he added before being overcome by a yawn.

"It's getting late. Let me just clean up," Belle said, looking at the litter of containers, soy packets, and napkins on the coffee table. "And then..."

"You don't need to clean up," Robert told her.

"I do. Knowing it's here would bother me."

"Then give us a kiss first," he told her. "Or I'll not let you go."

"Blackmail?" she asked with a smile.

"No, technically it's extortion, trust me, I'm a lawyer. But I prefer to think of it as a toll for having to let you go. After all, I do have you in my clutches. I did warn you."

Belle kissed him and then slipped out of his arms in order to clean up, while he watched. Now that the adrenaline had worn off and he had eaten, Robert was feeling throughly content with himself. Despite the pain in his leg, which was only slightly worse than usual, his evening had turned into an unqualified success. Belle was in his home, his arms, and, if things continued as they were, in his bed. He had meant exactly what he told her. He wanted to court her, to have her in his life completely, not just a night or a week, but as long as he could, as long as she would have him. He had never felt the same kind of instant attraction to a woman. Not desire, he was more that familiar with that particular emotion, but he wanted more.

A chill went through him. What if, once she knew him, knew what a bastard he was, she changed her mind? Then there was the age difference, would she really want to chain herself to an old man? ' _Get ahold of yourself, man,'_ he rebuked himself. _'You've not even managed a date and you're all ready to pick out china. Start at the begining.'_ It wasn't like him, he'd generally never planned more than a dinner or two, and bed. But this was different, she was different. Still, he resolved right then and there to take whatever she would give for as long as she could give it and not scare her with expectations.

"You are brooding," Belle accused as she came back into the room. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," he assured her.

"Well, it's getting late, so perhaps I should help you get upstairs?"

"I don't need help," he said, just a tad sharply. Robert was not accustomed to needing help.

"No, but I want to," she told him, offering him her hand. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to be close." She slipped an arm around his waist.

_Damn, why do I have to be injured, and why on God's earth did I think slow was a good idea?_

_Because you wanted her to know you were after more than her body?_ he reminded himself. 

_Doesn't make me want her any less,_ he grumped to himself.

 

Saturday morning did not start particularly early in the Gold house. Belle had helped him upstairs the night before though he had categorically refused to allow her to help further. That would have been more than his crumbling self restraint could handle. Rather, he had found a pajama top in his drawer, blue to match her eyes. Any women's clothing still in the house was likely to have been left by his ex wife or Cora, neither of which he would have insulted Belle with, assuming there was any, and that he knew were to find it. Then, with a final kiss that they had been reluctant to break, he had shoo'd her off to the guest room across the hall before he was unable to. Part of him had been tempted to ask her to stay, but that would have been too much too soon.

Sleep had come surprisingly easily and relatively dreamlessly, which Gold put down to a combination of food, exhaustion, and pain killers. Still, it was a bit of a surprise to wake up to the smell of frying bacon. Had Belle decided to fix breakfast for them? Did he even _have_ bacon in the house? Carefully, he dragged himself out of bed, threw his dressing gown on, and made his way down to investigate.

It took him longer than he would have liked but finally he let himself into the kitchen. But it wasn't Belle standing at his hob frying bacon.

"Granpa, granpa, granpa. " He knew he'd forgotten something.

"Leave your grandpa alone, Henry, until he's had his tea. Hey Papa," Bae said as he turned around.

"Robert, what are you doing? You're supposed to..." Belle started as she rushed into the kitchen wearing only his pajama shirt, or that he could see, and oh, the thoughts he shouldn't be having at this moment...He should have known that this wasn't going to be that easy. "I need a cuppa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I have more for you all. I didn't make you hang too long. Thank you for all the lovely comments. Keep them coming. I do love this story, and unfortunately as much as we would all like it, the road is not always going to be this smooth. 
> 
> The Fortune cookies come from fortunecookiemesssages.com (yes, its a real thing).  
> So is the 'in bed' thing, which I picked up in college.


	23. The things little kids say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry talks to Belle about sleepovers, girlfriends, and other things. 
> 
>  
> 
> Put the glass, mug, whatever down. This is rated for 'sh*it little kids say' and I will not be responsible if you spit something at your computer.

 

"Hi," Belle said, not exactly certain how to react. "I should..."

"Hey, Belle, nice to see you again," the young man said, as he turned back to the stove. "Are you tea or coffee? I'll put on more bacon." He turned and pulled another mug out of the cabinet.

"Ah...tea, please?" she asked, not exactly sure what to do. Everything was still so new and she hoped this didn't ruin everything. If nothing else, it was a new level in awkward. "Thank you," she said as he set the cup before her.

"No problem. Papa's always been a tea drinker, at least for the most part. I hope you like pancakes."

"Granpa, got my bag," the boy said. "Take it up?"

"I..."

"I've got to change," Belle said. She suspected Robert and his son needed a moment to talk. "Henry, why don't you show me where your bag goes before breakfast is ready?"

"'kay," the little boy said easily. Then he pointed to a backpack sitting on the small table.

"All right," she told him. "Robert, your ankle, you need to get it up," she reminded him gently before getting the backpack.

"I'll show you," Henry said as he took her hand.

"Lead the way."

There was silence in the kitchen after they left. Then Bae stuck a cup of tea under his father's nose. _Probably trying to decide which question to ask first_ , Robert thought unhappily. _This is a nightmare._

"Anything you want to tell me, Papa?" his son asked.

"Not particularly," he said, looking into the cup in front of him as if the answers lay at the bottom. "But don't suppose I've much choice, do I?" He looked up at his son, but Bae's face held nothing but curiosity, no accusation, no anger. "It's not what it looks like." The young man gave him a look of disbelief.

"So...that wasn't just a young woman you told me you weren't dating, wearing your pajamas, in your house at 8:00 on a Saturday morning? Because..."

"T'is that, yes." he agreed. "But we aren't, she and I..."

"Papa, I'm a big boy, you know. I never expected you to live like..."

This was not getting any less awkward, Robert reflected. After Milah had left, he had been very careful to keep his private life exactly that. He'd not wanted his son to either get attached or be resentful of anyone, not that there had been many. Cora had been the most serious of them and she'd only ever stayed overnight when Bae was away, though by that time, they had already had 'the talk'. "She slept in the guest room, not that it's any business of yours," he said sharply. When exactly had it become this hard?

"Why on earth would she do that?" his son burst out without a thought. "Sorry, Papa, I mean, I don't mean to pry but really? You've shown more interest in her than any woman I can remember, including Cora, and she's a hell of a lot less trouble," Bae told him. "And, she's clearly interested. You didn't see the way she looked at you. Maybe I wouldn't have chosen the night before babysitting Henry. It's not the world's best timing, but..."

"It was entirely accidental, her staying last night," Robert told his son.

"But..."

"But," he shrugged just a little, a hint of a smile finding his face.

"Yes," Bae said quietly, as he turned to add more bacon to the pan and start the pancakes. "Don't suppose you know how she likes her bacon?"

 

"My room's up here," Henry said, leading her to a small bedroom on the third floor that had clearly been set up for him. "Did you have a sleepover with granpa?" he asked. "I sleeped over before, 'cause I'm big now."

"Errr...yes, you could say that," she said. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or curl up in a ball. There was certainly no point in being embarrassed about it though, Henry had no idea what he was saying.

"If you have a nightmare, Granpa might even let you sleep with him," he confided.

That did make Belle choke just a little bit. "Why don't you get your things put away. I need to change."

"'kay," he said, unconcerned.

He was adorable. Belle only hoped that the appearance of his grandson wouldn't get Robert thinking about the age difference, again. Honestly, Belle didn't care. She didn't think it mattered. He was kind, brilliant...' _You want to jump his bones,'_ a voice whispered in the back of her head, one that sounded remarkably like Ruby, reminded her. Well, she admitted to herself, it was true. He was an excellent kisser and that last kiss before they said goodnight had left her tingling from head to toe, and curious about exactly what his lips would feel like on other parts of her body. Sleep had been difficult.

But at the moment, she needed to get dressed. She wasn't familiar with the rules of the house, so she didn't know if Henry would come looking for her. Belle rushed into her clothes, wishing she had something else to wear, but it would have to do. At least it was better than appearing in the kitchen in front of his son, in his pajamas.

When she came out, Henry was waiting for her. "Granpa says be careful on the stairs," he told her.

"Well thank you, Henry. Why don't we go see about breakfast?"

"Papa cooked pancakes, 'cause he says Granpa can't cook early. He's not got enough caffeeeeene."

When they came into the kitchen, Henry ran and climbed onto the stool at the island, next to his grandfather and on the far side from the stove. "Robert," Belle asked immediately. "Why haven't you put your ankle up?"

"I'm fine, what does that quack..."

"Yeah, Pop, what did you do? You kind of left that part out," Bae accused, splitting his attention from where he was flipping pancakes over with a spatula.

"He was playing the hero," Belle told him, coming to stand next to him, not quite sure what to do, but Robert slid an arm around her waist, signaling to her that it was all was well. "He caught me when I fell off a ladder last night. Dr. Whale said he was supposed to elevate it and use ice if it was swelling."

"Papa, why didn't you call? I could have come..."

"You and Emma need time too. Besides, Belle was there, and the quack was on call."

"Whale is the best, Papa, you know that," he said as he started filling plates. "Just because you don't like him..."

"He's a smarmy..." he paused, looking at his grandson, sitting next to him. "B-A-S-T-A-R-D."

"I never said he wasn't, just that he was not wrong. Bacon, Belle?" he asked, as he refilled her cup of tea.

"Yes, please," she told him while transferring the tea to the table before encouraging Robert to go sit and looking around for something to put his ankle on.

"Belle, there's a stool in the pantry, Henry uses it to help in the kitchen." He pointed in the direction of a door.

"I get it," Henry said running off.

"Papa, you think you're going to be okay? I could probably call..."

"I'll be fine, I'm no an invalid," he snapped.

"No, you aren't," Belle started, but was interupted by the horrible sound of plastic scraping over the floor.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE.....SCREEEEEEEEEEE. Henry was pushing the fat bottomed, plastic stool across the floor. They all stopped in deference to the noise.

"Hey, little man, need a hand?" Bae asked between pushes.

"No, I'm big enough." Several more squeals of tortured plastic later, the little boy had shoved it to his grandfather's seat.

Robert, who was still working on his tea, managed a smile, even if it was a little thin, while Belle immediately began to position it (without further sound effects) and smiled. "There. Now, I was just about to say that maybe I could stay? If you and Henry don't mind, of course."

"Yah, then we can have a big sleepover, right Granpa?" Henry bounced up and down.

Bae was trying to hold back a laugh at the startled look on his father's face. He understood how his father could have forgotten he'd agreed to keep Henry. But now it looked like his son was playing inadvertent matchmaker, and Bae for one, approved. Emma was going to die laughing.

"I don't know..." Robert said slowly, but the idea definitely appealed to him. "You will have to ask Belle if she wants to...er...sleep over." He had forgotten, and in all of his images of the early parts of their relationship, when he'd allowed himself to daydream, this was never a part of it. Still, he wanted to keep her there as long as possible and it would be helpful with Henry. "She might have things she needs to do. But I would love to have her stay." He looked into her eyes.

"Pleeeeese, Belle? I'll even let you pick the movie."

"How could I possibly refuse two such charming gentleman," she said, giving in. It really hadn't been a struggle. She'd have to arrange for Cheryl to drop her things off, maybe with Ruby, and she could bring them uptown? She had a teaching gig tonight not far away. _I am never going to here the end of this,_ she thought.

 

They had finished breakfast. Everyone seemed much more comfortable now. As Bae had cooked and Robert was injured, Belle insisted on doing the dishes, with help from Henry, who really seemed to have taken to her. The boy was carefully taking the rinsed dishes from her and walking them the two steps to the dishwasher.

"Are you my granpa's girlfriend?" he asked, Belle. The skillet she was washing slipped from her hands and back into the water.

"Do you know what a girlfriend is?" Bae asked from where he was sitting at the table drinking coffee to his father's tea.

"Yes. It's a girl who's a friend, papa," he said, in an exasperated tone as if his father had just asked the most ridiculous question ever. "It's kind of like a mama and a papa, only they don't live in the same house, so they get to have sleepovers." Bae choked on his coffee while his father sat his own cup firmly on the table. This was not something that would be improved with tea. "But you're better than other girlfriends, I bet," he told her confidently. "Nick says his dad and his girlfriend are always kissing and stuff, and he can't go into his dad's room when she sleeped over, even though he had a nightmare. Ava doesn't like her too, and she's a girl. But you're nice," he told her. Then he waved her down closer. "It's even okay if you want to kiss granpa, just not all the time, 'kay?"

"Genna' need something damn stronger than tea,"Robert muttered under his breath unsure whether to laugh or swear, while Bae was turning an odd shade of purple attempting not to spit his coffee.

"I really need to talk to Michael Tilman," Bae said, when he got the coffee down the proper pipe and took a breath. _Em's going to laugh herself sick when she hears that her son invited Belle to a sleepover with his grandfather,_ he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no intention of doing another chapter of this today, but Henry had other ideas. With special thanks to Lokeancupcakes for her niece and nephew, who's exploits inspire little Henry.


	24. Saturday with Belle and Henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belle spends time with Henry and his grandfather.

 

 

 

 

"Bae, if you could take Henry into..."

"Sure Papa," he said with a knowing smile. "Come on kiddo, your grandpa and Belle need a minute."

"'Kay," Henry said, then slightly more quietly, "it's for kissing and stuff, isn't it?"

"Let's go," the young man said, not answering.

"Belle, are you certain..." Robert asked the moment the door closed behind them. What had he been thinking? She was young and beautiful and he was, well, he was a grandfather.

"About what?" she asked. "About staying with you today or in general?" She moved closer to him in her chair. "It doesn't matter, the answer is yes to both. I want to spend time with you, and Henry is adorable. Besides, having him here will keep us both out of trouble." Belle grinned at him. "I can ask Ruby to get my things and drop them off. The only thing I could wish for was that I had a change of clothes. Fortunately, I think there is something in my bag."

"I could call Dove, and have him take you to pick up some things," Robert offered.

"So he does work for you, I wondered. But no, I'll be fine, Robert, really. We'll have fun."

"You say that now," he told her. "Are you sure that you don't have homework..."

"You saw my homework, at least some of it. That's the last big thing I have at the moment, so I am completely free." Then she leaned forward and kissed him. "We have to get to them," she said as she drew back.

But as she stood, he reached for her and pulled her into his lap. "Just one more moment. You wouldn't want to offend Henry's sensibilities with 'kissing and stuff'" he whispered against her hair and then pulled her into a proper kiss. It was brief but passionate, and Belle was flushed as he helped her back to her feet. The kiss had reassured both of them that the presence of the boy had only slowed things down. "Now, I think we are ready," he said.

Belle offered him her arm. He had ignored the crutches from the moment they got here, and considering the stairs, she could understand it.

In the next room, Belle was only slightly surprised to find a large flat screen tele, video, and what was probably a very sophisticated gaming system. There was a child sized table and chairs near a bookcase filled with books, and she was immediately drawn towards it, stepping around the child sized easel, and past the large toy box. There was also a cupboard with doors. The only real concession to adults being in the room was a large leather couch, complete with pouf and coffee table. There was also a desk with a computer, but she bet that it was filled with educational games. This wasn't an adults room.

The bookcase proved it. It was filled with children's books, some new, others that had clearly been Bae's and one or two that might very well have been Robert's. She looked over them and smiled. Belle loved books. She had given serious consideration to either document restoration or library science, but the first would have required moving even further away from her father, and as to the second, she knew too many librarians who were either out of work, or working out of field.

"Welcome to Henry's bedroom annex," Bae said. "Papa calls it the media room, but no one actually believes he uses it when the kid isn't here."

"I do watch the tele, you know," his father said. "I should go dress though. Belle, are you..."

"Belle, come colour with me," Henry said opening the cabinet which was full of games, puzzles, and art supplies, among other things. "I'll let you pick your colouring book first," he told her.

"I would love to, you are such a little gentleman," she told him.

"We're supposed to share," he told her. "Mama and Papa say so, 'cause it's nice."

Belle looked back at Robert and Bae. "I think we will be fine," she said, as she set herself down in one of the child sized chairs and looked through the colour books that he was pulling out.

The moment they were outside the door, Bae looked at his father very seriously. "Papa, I'm going to say this just once, and then I'll drop it. Belle's a keeper. Do. Not. Fuck. It. Up."

"T'is early days yet," Robert told him, though privately he agreed with his son. He just didn't want to get either of their hopes up. Any woman who not only volunteered to spend the day with him and his grandson, without the slightest bit of complaint or resentment, was more than he could have hoped for. If he already found himself tipping dangerously close to thoughts inappropriate for this early in their relationship, it was little wonder, and this was just adding to the weight.

When he returned, Belle and Henry were both colouring very intently. Gold wished at the moment that he had his camera, until he remembered his cell phone was in his pocket. Slipping it out, he snapped a couple of quick pictures, one of Belle laughing at one of his grandson's jokes, (What was the little pebble's wish? To be little boulder.) and another of her looking intently at her picture, contemplating what to colour next.

"Granpa, Belle said she would make brownies later, only if you say yes, so please," It actually took Robert a moment to parse his excited grandson's sentence, but he agreed easily.

"As long as you have proper food first," Belle reminded him. "I don't want your grandfather and I in trouble with your parents."

"Look what Belle did, Granpa, she coloured the Beast," Henry said, taking the picture to his grandfather. who had settled on the sofa to watch them, ankle dutifully propped up.

"Beauty and the Beast is my favourite," she said with a shrug.

"Well, you do have a thing for beasts," he said. Belle just shook her head and left them to call Ruby.

 

It was almost lunch time when Henry started getting restless. He was an active boy and while Gold usually managed quite well, his ankle was giving him some trouble, so it was a blessing when Belle asked him to walk with her to the store to pick up lunch food and brownie makings.

"And popcorn," Henry reminded her. "For the movies."

"And popcorn," Belle agreed. She was slightly embarrassed to have to accept money from Robert, but he also reminded her that it was for both him and Henry, so it was only fair.

 

As soon as they were gone, Robert checked his phone. He'd gotten a call earlier from Jefferson, inquiring after his ankle, which was the downside of keeping Belle safe. He had also told Robert that Nottingham had almost gotten run in, after being caught loitering on the street twice by the local patrol officers. It would have been almost amusing if he had known exactly what the man was up to. As it was, at least he felt better knowing that Henry and Belle were safe.

The other call he was waiting for came in just as they got back. Belle and Henry left him to take it while they put up the groceries. "Well?" he asked after the door shut behind them. He was fishing for a piece of paper.

"You were right boss," the man said.

"Which part, the mismanagement or the incompetence?"

"Both, with a side of deliberate corruption. The management company is paying the super to keep costs to a minimum. He was pretty proud of some of his schemes, hiring unlicensed repairmen and charging them for union contractors. Then there are the repairs themselves. I could write a book on this guy. Thing is, he's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is."

"How so?"

"The violations you found, those are only part of the story. Guy on the third floor is dealing. Not big time, but that's why there are so many 'problems' with the locks. See, these kind of doors, they can be made not to lock automatically, if you know how. It's a feature for moving heavy equipment or tenants moving in and out.

"Do you think he knows about the drug dealer?" he asked. He was getting angry now.

"I think he's getting paid to look the other way. How to fix the lock isn't common knowledge and I talked to one of the tenants who reported it to him. Not to mention the strange people in and out of a 'security' building. Just like I am almost sure that he broke that part on the furnace to justify the heating being off. The city inspector is a friend of mine, he's had his eye on this guy for a while, but he always manages to clean things up before they come around. It's also not the first building he was working in that had these problems, it's a pattern."

"What's the endgame, though?" Gold asked. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear it from his expert.

"My guess? The owners are absentee, as long as they've got some profit coming in, they don't care. The management company, that's a different story. Neighbourhood is gentrifying. Once that happens, the owners are going to sell fast, probably to someone the management company suggests. The new owners are going to gut renovate anyway, so they don't know how little maintenance has been done. They are making as much as they can before that happens, and probably going to make a finders fee on each end when it sells."

"That's my take. Thank you," he said. "Can you arrange a surprise building inspection?"

"Already done, sir. Anton wants this asshole. Besides, there are kids in the buidling and that ain't right. But what about the dealer? That's some shit..."

"What's the apartment number?" Gold asked, writing the information down. That he could do something about. Not that he'd not been known, in his younger days, to smoke the odd less than legal fag, but dealers and children should be kept away from one another, and these days he doubted it was just a bit of weed. "Also, check the management company," he said as an afterthought. Might be amusing to see where else they were doing this, maybe he'd get rid of them, and pick up a few choice pieces himself. Beside, it made good business sense. Walter was right, with the neighbourhood gentrifying, it was a sound investment, especially when the owners found out how expensive it would be to fix things. Yes, it wasn't just for Belle, it was good business.

' _Keep telling yourself that,_ ' a voice whispered.

"Granpa, lunch time," Henry called. Business could wait.

"Just need to make a phone call," he said. "Be there in a moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for keeping up with this story. I am really having fun writing it and your comments are appreciated, keep them coming. The joke actually is from the niece and nephew, because it's incredibly funny when you are four and six.


	25. Ruby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby brings Belle her things and wants answers.

 

Belle met Ruby out in front of Robert's brownstone Saturday afternoon. "Thanks Ruby, you are a life saver," she said as she took the stuff from her.

"Not a problem, now, care to tell me what is going on? Your friend Cheryl was in a hurry. She just said that there was an accident, and she says that she hopes your 'cute gentleman friend' is okay."

Belle sighed. She'd been hoping to avoid the explanations at least until later, much later, possibly after they had been in the relationship for a few years. But there was no way she could get away with 'thanks, bye,' now. "It's not..."

'I've never known you to forget _anything_ , much less everything," Ruby said, looking at her dubiously.

"I fell off the step ladder and Robert tried to catch me," Belle told her. "But with his bad leg..."

"Ouch, okay, got it, so..."

"So we hurried him off to the hospital to get it checked out. I was worried."

"Makes sense, how is he?"

"He's fine, he's inside with it elevated," Belle explained. "Henry's having a nap."

"Henry?" Ruby asked. "He's got a kid that's young enough for naps?"

"No, Henry...er...he's his grandson." Belle blushed just a little. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having and not on the sidewalk.

"Hmmm, I mean, I knew he was older than you but..."

"I have no idea how old he is, but I'm pretty sure that Bae and Emma had Henry young. I know he told me that he was too young when Bae was born, college I think, so apparently it runs in the family."

"I'm more interested in how you ended up spending Saturday with the guy you told me you categorically weren't dating and his grandson. Not to mention, meeting the family usually comes _after_ the dating part, pretty far after, depending. So dish."

"I need to get back..."

"Not so fast, girlfriend, give me the short form. Unless you want me to come in and ask him myself," Ruby threatened. Actually, it wasn't a threat, Belle _knew_ she would do it.

"All right. I met Bae, along with Emma and Henry, last weekend when he took me to the museum, completely by accident." Ruby nodded and waved for her to continue. "After we left the hospital, or actually, while I was waiting for his x-ray, I realised I had left everything and called Cheryl. She'd actually figured it out earlier and took my stuff with her. So he invited me to come back here for dinner and..." In her mind, she could hear Henry, 'you and granpa had a sleep over'. "He asked me to stay...not like that," she told her friend, identifying the look immediately.

"Why? He's not gay as far as I can tell, what with the kid and the grandkid, not to mention the way he..."

"No, it's not that, just...we kind of talked about..."

"About the fact that the two of you want to jump each other's bones? Come on, that's no secret, everybody knows that, except, apparently the two of you. Do I have to sit you both down and have the talk? Come on, I mean it's obvious.  Has been since the day you met."

  
"We talked," Belle said a little defensively. "But he's injured and..."

"There are ways around that..."

"And we'd like to take things slow, now that we've...talked."

"Did you at least get some kissing in?" Ruby asked. "And how is he? He looks like he'd know his way around."

"He does, but I really should get back." Belle had turned beet red and wanted out of the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Hold on, still waiting for the going from not dating, to potentially dating, to babysitting together."

"Robert forgot, in everything that happened, that he'd agreed to take Henry today and tonight. But he's supposed to be staying off his leg, and I'm finished with my project for school, so..." she shrugged.

"Okay. For now. But I want details later, got it? Got to fly, take care and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Oh, here." Ruby rooted around in her purse and came up with something she pressed into Belle's hand, a couple of foil wrapped packages.

"Ruby, not with..."

"Hey, there's always after he leaves, better safe..." With those words she headed off, leaving Belle blushing in the middle of the sidewalk. After a moment, she stuffed them into her pocket and went back in, hoping she wasn't blushing too badly.

Belle slipped back into the house and went back to where she had left Robert. He was actually dozing on the sofa, but his eyes opened when she came in. Henry was still asleep on the other end. He'd insisted that he was too old for a nap, but Robert was an old hand, telling the boy to lay down while they put on a movie. It didn't take long actually, about a third of the way through 'Lady and the Tramp' (which, according to his grandfather, he had seen approximately two hundred times), he dozed off, before the famous spaghetti scene. Belle had dropped a throw blanket over him and spent the rest of the movie cuddled up with Robert, getting some of the 'kissing stuff' out of the way, so as not to offend the boy's sensibilities.

Belle showed him the bag and gestured up, not wanting to wake Henry. Robert just nodded.

 

Upstairs, Belle went to the room she had slept in the night before and opened her bag. Despite being well organised, her school bag ended up being a hold all for kinds of odds and ends, 'just in case'. Ruby, bless her, had stuffed a spare tee shirt in at her request. It would be a little big, but at least it was clean. In the bottom, she found what she was looking for, a little bag of travel sized toiletries that usually stayed in her practice bag. She'd thrown it in yesterday so that she could freshen up for Robert and now she was glad. Robert had got her a new tooth brush but there were just some things that one needed on their own. She also found the socks that she kept in case of rain (no one likes wet socks) and, in a stroke of luck, a spare pair of knickers. They weren't pretty, they were old, but at least they were clean, left over from her monthlies. At least Robert would not be seeing them, not with his leg and Henry in the house.

It surprised her how comfortable she had been today, with the two of them. It was something that most people didn't get to until well into their dating life, and they hadn't even been on a proper date yet. That being said, she didn't think, Henry's suggestions in case of nightmares aside, that either of them would be comfortable doing anything with him in the house. Though if he hadn't been here, she wondered if he would have convinced her to stay anyway. After last night's kisses, and today's, Belle couldn't guarantee that things would have remained so innocent without him. She wasn't all that interested in waiting too long. But rather than pursue those thoughts, she gathered her things for a better clean up.

When Belle got back downstairs, Henry was once more awake. "BelleBelleBelle," he said, running to her. "Granpa says we can have pizza...only if you say so. PleasePleasePleeeeese." She could help but laugh.

"Didn't know if you liked pizza," he said with a shrug. Robert was so very elegant or he had been when they had been out. Seeing this casual side of him, the way he was with Henry, it only made him more attractive in her eyes.

"I have no objections as long as there is some veg," she said. It wouldn't do to get on his mother's bad side.

"Vegetable pizza," Henry said. "With pepperoni."

"Pepperoni's not a vegetable." She laughed.

"No but Papa says it should be, 'cause if vegetables and things that were good for you tasted like pepperoni, everyone would eat them. I like all vegetables, but granpa doesn't like the peppers," he told her very seriously.

"That's not so, lad. Just don't think they belong on pizza. Now, run get the menu." Henry was out of the room like a shot. "I hope this really is all right with you," Robert said, reaching a hand out for her and pulled her down next to him. "I'd imagined, when I allowed myself to imagine it at all, wining and dining you properly, and there were table cloths."

"I don't need to be wined and dined. I like spending time with you, regardless of what we do. Besides, this is..." she paused and thought about what she wanted to say. "This is real and comfortable."

"As long as you are happy," he said. "And you will let me do the other as well, later."

"Only if you insist," Belle said, letting him pull her in for a kiss.

"Granpaaaaaa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, thank you all for keeping up with the story. This is a bit of light fluff because I am having a craptastic day and needed a little fluff and small children. Please comment and let me know what you think.


	26. Sleep over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's second night at the Gold house.

"Glass of wine?" Robert suggested as they came back down. Henry had gone down easily after they had each agreed to read him one of his favourite books, though Belle wasn't entirely certain that he didn't choose based on length to stall sleep a little longer. Still it had been fun. She and Robert had taken turns reading and had enjoyed it immensely.

"Now you can kiss and do yecky stuff," Henry told them sleepily.

"I would like that, but should you go all the way back down?"

"Not necessary," he told her. "As long as you don't mind red," he told her before directing her into the room they had been in the night before. He limped carefully to a cabinet she had paid little attention to last night, which turned out to be a drinks cabinet. "I don't entertain much, haven't in years, but I believe in being prepared. With Henry though, the cabinet is a necessity."

Belle watched while he selected a bottle and opened it, fingers moving deftly through the motions. He had such elegant, graceful hands, and Belle found them mesmerizing. Tonight was hardly the night for that though, no matter how much she wanted it to be different. There would be other nights, at least she hoped so. He poured two glasses and brought her one.

"Tired?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"A little," she admitted. "Good tired, though. I really enjoyed today. Henry is adorable."

"He is that," Robert said. "I wasn't ready to be a grandfather, actually I wasn't ready to be a father, but I've never regretted either. Despite our differences, and we most certainly have them, Emma is good for Bae, she always has been, and he for her."

"How long have they been together?" Belle asked curious about this family she had involved herself with.

"It seems like forever. Actually it has been ten years or more. They met when they were both sixteen, trying to steal the same car." Belle laughed, but Robert just looked at her.

"You can't be serious?"

"I'm afraid so. I would say that Bae was going through a rebellious phase, but the truth is, things were awkward with us at the time. We got through it, though. It's not been perfect, and for a while I wondered if we would ever straighten things out. I was a bit of a workaholic when he was a teen, actually when he was a child full stop. His mother...well, shall we say she didn't want to be a mother. Then there is Bae himself, he's always had a strong independent streak," Robert told her.

"Is that what they call it? I wonder who he gets it from?" Belle teased. Robert stretched an arm along the back of the settee and Belle fit herself easily underneath it, and let him draw her close.

"And what about you? What rebellious secrets lurk in your past, hmmm? Egging the neighbour's house, out after curfew, inappropriate boyfriend? No? Failure to return a library book on time?" he asked.

"Who me? None of the above I'm afraid, well maybe the library book. I'm afraid my dancing is the most rebellious thing about me. There isn't really much to get up to in a small town in Maine. Okay, there is one thing, but it's silly and hardly worth mentioning."

"Oh, please, do tell, I promise, I won't judge you too harshly," he whispered.

"I climbed the outside of the town clock tower during the Miner's Day celebration on a dare," Belle said, blushing.

"Oh, you little rebel," he teased her. "And why did you do that?"

"My best friend and I did it together, we had a football jersey, American football, from this nasty boy on the team and another girl dared us to hang it off the weather vane. Unfortunately, once I got up, I couldn't get back down and they had to call the fire department. It was horrendously embarrassing. My best friend managed to get away though. My father was beside himself. After my mum died, the flower shop and raising me was all that he had."

"I'm certain that he was just glad to have you safe. How old were you?"

"I was fourteen, a sophomore in high school and had never been in trouble before, so they let me off easy, but it was still horrifying. I'm not keen on heights, but that is all I have."

"Still, I am certain you were popular at school," Robert told her, dropping a kiss onto her hair.

"Me? Hardly. I had one good friend, I wasn't interested in the sport, or boys, I always had my nose in a book, and after school I worked at the shop or sat behind the till and did my homework. It was not a very exciting life."

"Did your father not have anyone working for him?"

"No, it's a small shop, He has a part time delivery driver, and sometimes I would make deliveries if they were in town, but it wasn't a big thing. It gave us time to spend together. He's a good man, he loves the work, he has his friends, and his flowers. But I wanted something else and he wanted me to have it, to have the life I wanted, so when I graduated, I applied for and got a scholarship, and here I am."

"And I, for one, am grateful for it, as I would not have met you otherwise." He leaned in and kissed her, his mouth tasting of red wine and something uniquely Robert that made her feel good. She sighed low in her throat and he pulled her into his arms, kissing her slowly. Belle allowed one hand to drift into his hair, twining with the silky strands as she kept him close.

"Belle," he whispered softly, pulling away from her reluctantly.

"Yes, I know, it's not the time," she told him.

"No matter how much I wish it was otherwise," Robert told her softly. "Perhaps we should..."

"Yes," Belle agreed. "We should. I am certain that Henry will be up early, and apparently you aren't allowed to cook early."

"Oh, who told you that?" he asked, standing carefully, leaning on his cane, before reaching for her hand.

"Henry, of course."

 

Belle wasn't certain exactly what time it was when she woke to the sound of soft knocking on her door. For a moment, she was disoriented, not sure where she was. Then she heard the soft voice. "Belle...Belle, are you wake?" She got out of the bed and went to the door. Henry was standing at her door in his footie pajamas, a teddy bear under one arm, his dark hair sticking up in all directions.

"Henry, what's the matter?" she asked instantly. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I just...sometimes I don't like sleeping alone. I thought I would go sleep with granpa. Come with me? Please? The hall is scary sometimes." There was nothing she could say to that, or to the big brown eyes that she knew for absolute certain would have a devastating effect on women when he grew up.

"All right," Belle told him. After all, it wasn't as if he was asking her to stay, or he had caught them in bed together. "Come on then."

Henry reached up and grabbed her hand with the one that wasn't clutching the teddy bear and they went down the hall to the end, where Robert's room was. Henry didn't bother knocking there, just opened the door and went in, not letting go of her hand. "Granpa, can I sleep with you? I brought Belle too," the little boy said as he hurried over and climbed up onto the bed.

"Little monkey, what are you doing?" he asked, his eyes remarkably awake and just as startled as she was.

"I didn't want to sleep by myself, the house is creaky. And I didn't want Belle to be scared either, so I brought her with me," he told his grandfather as he settled into the bed. "She can stay too, can't she?"

"I...er...that is, if..."

"Please, granpa, we don't want her to be lonely do we?"he asked.

"Of course we don't," Robert sighed.

Belle was scarlet, but what could she say to that? "Come on, Belle, I've got the middle, 'cause it's warmer there, plus I'm littler." Shaking her head in resignation and wondered exactly what it was with these Gold men that they could so easily twist her around, she came over and slipped into the bed on the other side. "Night, Granpa, Night Belle." And with that, the little scamp rolled over and went to sleep.

Belle watched Robert over the sleeping boy. "Not quite the way I imagined getting you here," he whispered.

"Nor I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. If you missed it, there is another one shot from this story, call 'Just Ask' which I wrote for BardicRaven's birthday, but now, on to the story. Please read, review, all that usual kind of stuff.


	27. The Morning After...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up with Robert 
> 
>  
> 
> *warning, things said by little kids*

Belle woke suddenly to a teddy bear in the face. "Gottagobafrooom, hold," the sleepy voice said. She opened one eye in time to watch the little boy clamber over his grandfather, carefully avoiding his bad leg and down off the bed and run off in the direction of one of the closed doors. It was still dark in the room, but she wasn't certain if that was the time, the weather, or the drapes.

"Little Monkey," Robert said fondly, yawning. "And he's taken to you, he doesn't trust just anyone with Baloo," he pointed to the bear she was cuddling.

"What time is it?" Belle asked.

"Too early. Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he said. "I'm sorry about all this. He's..."

"He's quite the little matchmaker, whether he knows it or not. It's fine, though I would prefer it if we kept this between us. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your son and his wife."

"Oh, they are well aware of what the little scamp is capable of. But I won't tell them. And now, a kiss?" he asked. He looked rather adorable himself, his hair tousled from sleep, delightfully rumpled, and Belle leaned in for a quick kiss, when they heard the door. Moments later a dark, fluffy head appeared, climbing back the way he came, reclaimed his bear, and went back to sleep. Belle smiled at Robert in the dark. No one would believe this story if she did tell them. Listening to the two of them breathing softly, she fell back to sleep.

 

When she woke the second time, it was to answer her own call of nature. She slipped quietly out of bed and went to the door that Henry had gone into earlier. The bathroom shared one outside wall with the bedroom and dim light filtered through the curtain. Belle closed the door and reached for and found the light on the wall. Much to her delight, it had a dimmer on, and when she flicked it, the light was just bright enough to see by.

When she had tended to the necessities, she looked around the room curiously. There was a large bath beneath the window at the one end, a large walk in shower, and a small vanity. It was nice, clean, functional, and except for the soaking tub, not particularly extravagant, just a nice well apportioned bathtub. But she didn't want to snoop, so instead she slipped out. The clock at the bedside said 7:30 in glowing numbers, but as she started to get back into bed, she realised that Henry was awake, sitting up playing with his bear.

"Henry," she whispered, and waved to him to join her, one finger to her lips. The boy smiled and grabbed the bear and slipped out of the bed. Belle ushered the little boy out and closed the door quietly. "How would you like to come help me make some breakfast and let your grandfather sleep?"

"Make tea too. We usually go out for breakfast on 'count of granpa not being good with the stove first thing," he told her.

"That's all right, Henry, I am."

 

For the second day in a row, Robert Gold woke up to delicious smells drifting up from the kitchen. He rolled over and realised that his big bed was once again empty. To say he had been shocked when Henry had shown up with Belle, holding her hand, would have been an understatement. At the same time, that Henry had taken so to Belle both frightened and excited him. It seemed so very easy, but he didn't want to think about it too hard. Instead, he dragged himself from the bed, and got ready to face the morning.

Downstairs, he found Belle in the kitchen. Henry was sitting on the stool, watching her and talking a mile a minute. "You know why Uncle Sam doesn't knock?" the little boy asked her and his grandfather preemptively groaned. "'Cause freedom rings. My friend Michael told me that, he goes to school with me. We were going to go to the zoo together, but I got sick so granpa tooked me later....maybe..."

"Took," Belle corrected distractedly.

"Maybe..."

"I see you got started without me," he said.

"Granpagranpa, Belle and me made french toast!" the boy said without stopping for breath.

"Henry showed me where everything was. I hope you don't mind. I'm afraid the options were limited, without going to the grocery. "

"Not at all, I'm not much of a cook anymore. Not much cause, I suppose."

"There is tea for you," she said as he took the stool next to his grandson. "It's actually a joy to cook in here. My kitchen is on the small side and the stove is not the best."

Robert leaned back and smiled at his first sip of tea. "Yer more than welcome to use mine whenever you like, as long as you let me eat the end product."

"Wait 'til you've tasted it first," she cautioned.

 

Breakfast was a pleasant affair. Belle's cooking surpassed his imagining. Of course, some of that could have been the joy of having a beautiful woman who actually wanted to be there, who wanted to be with him, flitting around his kitchen in an old blue apron that had been hanging on the back of the door for years. Perhaps it was that Belle seemed to take genuine pleasure, not just in spending time with him, but with Henry. Robert knew his grandson didn't like just anyone. All in all, he couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning.

After they ate, Henry helped Belle clean up. Robert offered, but she was adamant that he keep his ankle up. Instead, she gave him the Sunday Times and he sat reading out the odd interesting story, while Henry entertained her with bits and pieces about school, his friends, Tianna, the college girl that looked after him, and his parents.

"My mama is a pleese d'tective. That means she's like Blue's Clues only with bad guys, and she puts them in jail," he explained. "So everyone is safe."

When the cleanup was finished, Robert took over, sending Belle to get changed while he took charge of his grandson. It wouldn't do to overwhelm her too quickly. They had gotten changed and returned to the 'media room' when Belle joined them, hair slightly damp from the shower and curling beautifully around her face. Henry was trying to decide between two movies.

"So when do you have to go home?" he asked as she sat down on the sofa next to him. Not that he wanted to push, but he would like to enjoy some time with her alone. Actually Robert would be perfectly happy if she didn't go back home tonight, but it might be asking a little much after Henry's antics last night.

"Which one do you like Granpa?" Henry interrupted holding up two brightly coloured DVD boxes.

"Why don't we have the Jungle Book, it's been a bit. Belle?"

"It's fine with me, if..."

There was the sound of the door opening and Henry was off like a rocket, out the door and into the hall. Moments later, Emma Swan entered, carrying her son. "and we made brownies and watched movies and..."

"Slow down, kid," Bae said as he came in behind them, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"We did everything. Belle coloured with me and then we slept over, me and Belle an Granpa, 'cause I didn't want her to be lonely when the house makes the funny noises and ..."

"You what?" Emma said, having clearly picked up that part of the sentence.

Henry sighed. "I went to sleep with granpa, cause the house makes funny noises and I got Belle 'cause I didn't want her to be scared and lonely," he explained with the exaggerated patience of a very small child when the grown ups were being dim. Bae, who had just taken a drink of coffee, gasped, choked, and started to cough, as coffee sprayed out. Emma, to her credit, only went dark red, but so had Belle. The detective put her son down and turned and pounded on her husband's back, perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

"You..." Bae said when he could talk again. Emma gave him a look. "Ah, why don't I take him up to get his bag?"

"How about I do it?" Belle offered. She was mortified and thought that perhaps it might be better to let them talk without her. Henry took her hand and they went into the hall.

They were halfway up the stairs when she heard Emma Swan's voice. "Your son invited your father's girlfriend to sleep with them so she didn't get lonely?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for the lovely comments, please keep it up. I hope this keeps you guys happy, things are about to get a bit hectic so I don't know what my update schedule is going to look like, as I have two other stories that are almost finished.


	28. Plans coming together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Emma talk, and one of Robert's plans comes together.

 

 

"Hey Belle, can I..." Emma Swan asked when they came back down, motioning her into the kitchen.

"Of course," she said, and followed nervously while Henry went into the other room.

"Listen, I want to apologise, Emma told her the minute the door closed. "Henry really is a good kid. He just wanted to make you..." Belle could see she was struggling, and frankly she was relieved. She'd been very afraid that Emma would think...well, to be honest she wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting.

"It's all right. He didn't mean any harm. I was just afraid that you would think that Robert and I were behaving...inappropriately."

Emma laughed. "Look, Gold and I may have our issues. Boy, we have had our issues. But if there is one thing I can be absolutely sure of, it's he wouldn't do that. Hell, Bae told me that when he was a kid, his father wouldn't even date, and when he did, he never had them over if Bae was home. I'll talk to Henry."

"He really was just trying to be kind. He's a sweet boy. It was just a little soon," Belle said. She was blushing scarlet but feeling a little better about the whole thing.

"He likes to crawl between his dad and me. He's a sensitive kid. Last year one of those cranes that fell off the building? That was next door to us. Strange noises, especially at night, still kind of freak him out. Hell, I"m still a little nervous," Emma told her.

"For me, it's those steel plates," Belle replied. She was very relieved. It was so early in things and she didn't want family problems already. But now she was at least somewhat reassured.

When they went into the other room, Henry was climbing on his father, talking very fast about something that was clearly exciting. "Bellebellebelle, can you and granpa come with us?" he asked her.

"I told him he would have to ask," Bae said.

"Go where?" she asked, though she was certain that the answer was going to be no. Robert really needed to rest his leg, and a little quiet time before she had to go home wouldn't go amiss.

"To the museum to see the dinosaurs." He looked at her. "Rahrrrr," Henry growled, making his best scary dinosaur face.

"We were going to take him to the park," Bae told her. "But it looks like rain again."

"And they have dinosaurs," Henry said, making sure she understood the important things. "They aren't alive anymore, but some of them are ginormous and a little scary, but Granpa and I can hold your hand if you get scared, right granpa?" Belle tried not to laugh, he was so serious and sincere.

"It sounds like fun, but not this time. Your grandfather still needs to be careful about his leg, and I need to go back home."

"Maybe next time, Kiddo," Bae told him. "But we had better be going. Wouldn't want the dinosaurs to get away." He swung his son up onto his shoulders and they said their goodbyes.

Now," Robert said. "When is it you have to be home?"

 

Monday dawned cloudy, but at least it was no longer raining. Belle dragged herself out of bed reluctantly. She had been warm and comfortable and dreaming of Robert. It had been ridiculously hard to drag herself away yesterday, even though they had done nothing but cuddle up on the sofa, talking and exchanging kisses that made her want to seriously reconsider his plan to take their time.

In the end, it had only been the need to get things done for the week ahead, including the housework that she had been sadly neglecting, that had made her drag herself from his arms. He had insisted that Dove drive her home, however, citing the on again off again rain.

Still, she thought as she rushed into the bathroom, praying that the hot water was working again, Robert had promised to call her after his appointment with 'the quack'. "Perhaps you could give me something to look forward to," he'd told her.

After getting ready, still cursing the water, and wishing that she had been able to justify staying with Robert another night, she left her apartment. When she got halfway down the stairs, she was surprised to see a very large man with a clipboard standing between the doors, making notes.

"You live here, Miss?" he asked politely, holding the inner door for her.

"Yes, I do."

"Anton Little," he introduced himself, holding out one hand to her, while holding up his ID for her to see. "City Code Enforcement Inspector. Can you tell me if you are aware of the security door being tampered with?"

"Well, I've not seen it done, but I have found the door open when I got home and there have been some people in the building that I don't think live here. David, he lives up in 3B, swore he saw someone getting a tattoo on the staircase two weeks ago. I really thought he was kidding. There have also been some people banging on my door at odd hours."

"Thank you, Miss..."

"French, I'm on the second floor but.." She paused a little uncertainly.

"Don't worry, I"m not planning on putting your name in the report, and if I did, it would be confidential. I just prefer to know who I am talking to," the big man said with a smile. "Is there anything else that you think I might want to turn my attention to? I mean, if I happened to be looking, where do you think..."

"The water heater," she told him quietly. He nodded.

"Thank you," he said, and then held the door open politely just as the building super came up from the stairs below the street.

"What you doin' here, Little?" he growled. "Ain't due for another..."

"Surprise inspection, checking into some 311 reports. Now, what's going on with this door?"

Belle hurried off. Angelo was kind of a sleazy character, but he'd never given her much trouble. Still Anton was half again his height and while she thought the building super not the brightest of men, he probably wasn't going to hit a city inspector. Of course, if he did, maybe they would get a super who did his job.

 

"Inspection is done, Boss," Walter told Gold. "Report should be filed by tomorrow at the latest."

"And?" he asked.

"The fines alone are going to set them back a pretty penny, and that doesn't include the actual repairs. This time he had no chance to cover anything up. Anton also dropped a word to the fire inspector and ConEd. Apparently he thinks there is something iffy about some of the electrical connections."

"Excellent," Gold said. "There will be a bonus for you next week."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll have those repair estimates for you by the end of the week, just waiting on one of the suppliers."

Gold leaned back in his chair with a sigh of satisfaction. Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about Belle's safety, and he would pick up a rather nice property for the future. He had already received a call from Emma about the other little problem which was on the radar of those who needed to know.

"The next day or two," she told him. "Told the lead to give me a heads up before it goes down, explained that I had a friend of the family in the building. You can make sure she's not home. Probably not going to be an issue, but..."

"But I would rather she's not there," he supplied.

"Me too," Emma said. "She's a nice woman. No clue what she sees in you, Gold." That was more like it, much more familiar.

"On that, detective, we agree."

 

"So, dish," Ruby said, dropping into the booth opposite. She had texted Belle first thing about lunch. Belle had figured it was probably better to get it over sooner rather than later, now that there was no way around it.

"There is nothing to dish. I told you," Belle said. "We spent the time with his grandson. We made brownies and watched Disney movies. It really was..."

Her phone buzzed and she checked it reflexively. It was a text. 'Off to the quack. Have dinner with me?' she read. Belle had told him to text, as she couldn't take calls at the library. She flushed with pleasure at the very basic message.

'Yes,' she texted back.

"Your boyfriend?" Ruby asked. "He sending you x rated text messages? You gonna teach him to sext at his age, or is he already an expert?"

"No, nothing like that," she told her friend, trying to look disapproving.

"Why not? It _is_ from him isn't it?"

"Yes, but it's nothing....untoward. He wants me to have dinner with him."

"I'll bet, and I know what he wants for dessert," the dark haired girl said with a salacious grin. Belle balled up her napkin and threw it at her.

"It's not like that. We are...we are taking things slowly."

"You stayed the weekend with him, met the family, and babysat his grandkid together. Clearly this is some new definition of taking a relationship slow that I was previously unaware of. Come on, Belle, you are practically doing this in reverse order. And admit it, you want to jump him. You have since moment one. Seriously, I've never seen you go head over heels like this," her friend told her.

"I do, I mean...Yes, I really like him, a lot. And I don't want to screw things up either. It's been a little overwhelming. I've never felt like this about anyone. He's...different. He listens to me, he's funny, and a little bit old fashioned. Actually I think he's been alone for a while. There is something about him, he's...layered."

"I get it. You've got it bad. Just, you know, make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Ruby, you were just telling me I should..."

"Bang him like a screen door in a wind storm? You should. I'm just saying be careful with the serious stuff. Now, all the details.  What did you do, where, what kind of kisser is he? Come on, inquiring minds want to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for keeping up with this. Sorry for the delay, I hope it is worth it. Please read, review and all that kind of thing. Life has been a bit much, but I should be closer to on course.


	29. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Robert's first date doesn't quite go as expected.

Belle stood in front of the mirror looking at herself critically. The dress was a vintage 40's style, flared skirt, sweetheart neck, and the blue looked good on her, she knew that. But it was her first proper date with Robert and she wanted it to be perfect. He hadn't told her where they were going, but she hadn't actually remembered to ask, so focused on him and what he was saying. Belle knew she shouldn't be so nervous, but she couldn't help it. Instead of focusing on that, she dragged herself away and started pinning up her hair. Now she just needed to get her make up done. She had told Robert that she would meet him, but he wouldn't hear of it. Dove was going to pick her up and she only had another hour.

 

Robert Gold hung up the phone with a smile that many people would have found out of place on his face. The reservations were made, a small, out of the way place, up market, but not flashy enough to startle her or make her uncomfortable, and definitely not the sort of place frequented by those who wanted 'to be seen' which he categorically _did not_. Dove had been given his instructions and now it was only a matter of time.

His doctor's appointment had gone exactly as expected. Whale wanted him to go under the knife and he had no desire to let the man tinker with any part of his anatomy, he'd had enough of that. He knew exactly what his ankle was and why. After more x-rays, the usual threats on both sides, and a couple of prescriptions, one of which was for painkillers that he was never going to fill, and putting up with having some therapist fit a brace on his bad leg, Robert left in the mood to terrorise someone. Instead he had called Belle to make arrangements for their date. That had mellowed him considerably.

 

"If I may say, you look lovely, Miss," Dove had told her quietly when he handed her into the car. She gave the big man a smile and prayed that she didn't look as nervous as all that. Unfortunately, the only thing she had that was like an evening purse was far too small for a book, which left her with nothing to occupy herself with but watching the city pass by.

She had more or less managed to get through lunch without giving Ruby every detail. Her best friend was a sad loss to the intelligence and law enforcement communities, she could get just about anything out of anyone. Belle was absolutely certain that she would never have let her live down sharing a bed with Robert and his grandson before they had even gotten to a real date. Instead she had accepted, with more or less grace, a few more condoms, even though she was fairly certain that tonight was going to go no further than they had already. Tomorrow was an early day for her, and she had her appointment with campus health services in the afternoon. When they took their relationship further, Belle wanted to be completely covered.

The car pulled into an underground parking facility, distracting her from her thoughts. Dove must have called ahead. As they pulled up, an elevator opened and Robert emerged, followed by a woman who was collecting the last of a pile of forms into a portfolio. "See that they are sent out tonight, by courier. I want them to know exactly what kind of leverage I can bring to bear if I must," he told her, before getting into the car. The woman looked like she was trying to see into the car, and Belle was tempted to retreat back into the shadows, but Robert had slipped in and the door was closed. He sighed as he smiled at her. "Belle," he said, and reached out slowly to pull her into his arms for a kiss.

"Bad day?" she asked when he released her, though she made no attempt to move further away.

"Long," he said. "But it is getting better by the moment. Any day that finishes up with your company is well worth the rest."

"Even Doctor Whale?" she asked. He appeared to be giving that serious consideration.

"Yes, even the quack."

"And what did the quack have to say?" she asked, hoping it wasn't too forward.

"Nothing he's not said before," Robert told her dismissively. "There are new techniques, if only you would let me..." He did a surprisingly good imitation of the doctor's rather smarmy tone. "As if I'd trust that bloody Frankenstein."

"I thought Bae said he was the best?"

"That he is, but I'm no gonna' be his guinea pig. He's got some new procedure he's been perfecting, completely experimental, and I'm the perfect candidate, or so he says. Think he just figured it's so bad that I'd not notice either way. But enough of that quack. I'd rather talk about more pleasant things."

 

The car pulled up before the restaurant, a small, elegant place, understated, on the ground floor of a brick building that was at the very least pre War. Robert offered her his free arm, escorting her into the hushed interior with a very appealing old fashioned formality. The maitre d' clearly knew him, greeting him by name. "I've a lovely table for you, Mr. Gold, in the back, just as you..." the man was saying when Robert's mobile phone went off. He pulled it out and after a look at the caller ID, grimaced just a bit.

"I'd best take this," he said. "Henry, please see Miss French to our table," he told the man. "I will join you shortly." Gold punched the answer button as he turned toward the front. "This had best be important," he growled.

 

The maitre d' showed Belle into the back of the restaurant, a separate room with only a few tables, each with their own little oasis of pot plants and candle light. There was an indoor waterfall installed on one wall, and windows looked out onto a lovely garden area that was probably opened when the weather was conducive. He seated her with a smile and then left her with a leather bound menu that looked like a classic from an expensive library and a wine list that was much the same.

After a moment, a waiter appeared, along with a young man carrying goblets and water. "May I get you a cocktail?" the waiter asked.

"I will wait," she told him and the man took himself away, leaving her to peruse the room and the menu, and wait for Robert.

"Hey there," someone addressed her. The voice was familiar and Belle turned around in suprise.

"David?" she asked, startled.

"Nope, but I can be if you like," the man said. He was holding a cocktail glass in one hand and had a cocky grin on his face. "We haven't met before, I am sure I would remember." Looking more closely, Belle could see the differences. Where David was open and friendly, there was something cold about him, and arrogant. The resemblance was remarkable, however, and she made a note to tell her friend. "Can I buy you a drink? A beautiful woman shouldn't be sitting by herself."

Belle bit the inside of her lip. Did this man really believe himself, or did he think she was that stupid? After all, this was hardly a pick up joint. "Thank you, Mr..."

"Spenser, James Spencer, but you can call me anything you like," he said with a grin.

"Mr. Spencer, then, but no thank you. As you can see, I am not alone. My companion had to step out to take a call. He will return shortly." She only hoped he took the hint.

 

"Gaston Rose," Jefferson said, in place of a greeting.

"Gareth Rose's son? What has he..."

"That is the connection you were looking for," the man replied.

"Explain."

"Keith Nottingham and the Rose heir have been thick as thieves since grade school. Rose is a bully and Nottingham is the guy he calls when he needs something shady done. Probably the kid that held down the ones he shook down for their lunch money at school"

"Gaston..." Gold said thoughtfully. He'd not been able to remember the name. "Not a common name."

"Not here, no. And yes, he was the one time, and apparently very short term, boyfriend of one Belle French."

"Hardly a boyfriend, at least on her side. Connect the dots, and quickly."

"You knew about them dating then?" Jefferson asked.

"Not specifically. She mentioned him, but not his last name. I gather he had given her some small amount of trouble, but she implied that he had gone away with little difficulty."

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it. If I have the timing right, he disappeared from her life because he got himself into a spot of trouble, and Maman shipped him back to the old country so fast he was probably still not sure he had all his parts. Something illegal, no details. Old man Rose had enough pull to cover up myriad sins. Still digging though. He's got a reputation for not taking no for an answer. Obsessive and possessive, a bad combination."

"The question is, why Belle and why now? And how did he track her down? She was in the dorm when they dated, which is probably why there was no more trouble than there was."

"That I can answer, some of it at least. He's been in Europe until a few months ago. I would imagine he tried to look her up when he got back, but she has no land line, and the Roses have no real estate connections."

"None of Belle's friends would tell him, her best friend would be more like to push him under the crosstown bus for asking."

"Not Belle's friends no, and you own a bottle of good scotch to Graham Humbert. I'm not much of a scotch drinker."

"Regina's..."

"Yeah, her whatever they are, I don't ask too closely, don't want to know. Anyway, he and I go back. I figured I would track back her movements, and since, if he was going after her before she met you, he no doubt would have done something already, so..."

"The summary, not the bloody novel, Jefferson," Gold grumbled.

"I had Graham check the credit card receipts against Rose's known associates."

"The drunken louts," Gold said, putting two and two together.

"Yep, one of them was a frat brother of his. He recognised Belle and decided to tease Gaston about it. Not a good move, he doesn't take teasing well. But the black eye will probably heal soon enough."

"How dangerous is he?" Gold asked, getting to the important parts. He was trying to figure out exactly what to do. He was almost certain that Belle would not approve of him having put her under surveillance.

"Nottingham? Not particularly, he's a drunk and a bully, street brawler. Rose, he's another matter. He's cunning and there are some suspicious things in his past that I am still running down. He doesn't take rejection well, but I don't think he will go after her directly. My best guess, he knows you are seeing her. Now, Gaston might just be stupid enough to come after you."

"I can solve for him, but continue the surveillance for now. I'll have her building secure soon enough, but make sure that it's someone who can step in."

"Oh, I have that part covered. There is nothing the dragon likes better."

"See that you do," Gold said, hanging up. He had already been away from Belle too long. Jefferson would handle the rest.

 

"Come now, any man who would leave a beautiful lady alone..." Belle was rapidly running out of patience with the persistent arsehole, when the Maitre d' came to her rescue.

"Mr. Spencer, your father has arrived. Please follow me," he said, indicating a table on the far side of the room where a large, white haired man waited.

"Next time, I suppose, beautiful," Spencer told her before following with a last cocky grin.

"Not likely, arse," Belle said under her breath, smile fixed on her face.

 

"I am sorry I was so long," Gold said as he joined her only moments later. "Unfortunately it was some information I had been waiting for."

"It's not a problem," Belle told him. She was absolutely determined to forget the jackass, Gold's phone call and everything else, and enjoy her evening with him.

They had gotten as far as ordering and were enjoying a rather nice shrimp appetizer when they were interrupted, this time by the sommelier. "I have been told to recommend a bottle of wine, compliments of the management," the man said. Gold looked at him suspiciously. "An apology to the young lady for being inconvenienced."

"Thank you," Belle said, "but really, it's not necessary."

"I trust your judgement, Andre," Gold said, clearly dismissing the man, who was smart enough to know when to leave. "What happened while I was on the phone?" he asked.

"It was nothing, a man who didn't realise I was not alone." Gold didn't believe for a moment it was that simple. He knew the restaurant well. But for Belle's sake, he decided to let it go for now.

"That should teach me to leave you alone," he joked. "You are too beautiful for that."

"I suspect it had more to do with being the only woman sitting alone, or possibly the cocktail he was drinking," Belle told him. Somehow, when Robert called her beautiful, she believed him and it made her feel happy, where with Spencer, it set her teeth on edge.

 

They had gotten as far as ordering dessert and Belle had enjoyed herself, forgetting everything except how much she enjoyed spending time with Robert, how much they had to talk about, and how happy he made her.

"I don't want my own dessert, I'll never fit..." she started.

"Gold." The voice was cold, and it made Belle shiver as she turned.

"Spencer," Robert said, equally as cold. His voice held a tone she had never heard before. She looked up. The young man who had tried to pick her up earlier was standing behind the man, his father. "As you can see by the fact that this is a restaurant, and not an office, I am having dinner, and with a guest at that. As we have nothing social to say to one another, I would suggest you call my secretary. Now, if you will excuse me," he turned back to Belle, dismissing the man.

"How dare you..." Spencer growled. Before Belle could completely understand what was happening, Gold had risen from his chair with a speed that clearly startled the other man.

"You will find that I dare a great deal. After this long, you should not be surprise by that. I will also remind you that you should tread carefully. My patience is limited."

"Are you threatening me, Gold?" the larger man asked.

"I don't threaten, that is another thing you should remember by now. Do you want to have this conversation now then? Only please remember what I am likely to say," Robert told him. He was a good half a head shorter, but it was Spencer who backed down. "I thought not."

"So that's it, you're a professional. Pity, I could have shown you a better time than this old fossil," the young man said. "It's not like he can..." It was like a very slow motion nightmare. Belle felt her face go red. The older Spencer turned to his son, but Gold had already reached out, striking like a snake, grabbing the young man by the end of his tie and pulling him to eye level, all pretense of civility gone.

"Speak of me as ye like, pup. But ye'll leave me lady out of it," he said, his accent thickening to the consistency of molasses, all polish gone. James Spencer was going red in the face and gasping. "I'm no' one of you, I've dragged meself up, fought for every scrap. I know tricks ye'll never learn and know more than enough about ye and ye're..."

The older Spencer had turned sheet white. "Gold, please..."

"Here is what is goin' to happen," Gold said, once again all control. He released his grip somewhat, and the young man stumbled up, breathing heavily. "The puppy is goin' to apologise..."

"Or wha..." James said, getting his breath back, but a look from his father quelled him a little.

"For starters, I'll have you put out of this restaurant. You see, I own the building. After that, well, there is a story or two that I am certain VNN or one of its more salacious subsidiaries would be interested in."

"You can't, you wouldn't," the elder Spenser said, but clearly he wasn't certain. Whatever it was that Robert knew, it certainly scared him.

"Kenneth Irons and I go back quite a while, you know, and if you think he's forgotten that little incident, you are mistaken. If anything, he remembers even longer than I do, and he forgives less. I'd also not be so vocal in questioning his daughter's parentage. If I heard it, so might he. You wouldn't want to find Nottingham at your door late one night."

"James, apologise to the young lady," the older man said. He was looking deflated, though Belle doubted it would last. He didn't seem the type.

"But father..."

" **NOW**."

 

When the two men had left, Robert had sunk back into his chair. He wasn't looking at her. Belle wasn't entirely sure she understood half of what had happened, and she had certainly never seen Robert that way before.

"I'm sorry, Belle," he said, finally. "I never wanted you to be exposed to that side of me."

"It's hardly the first time I've been..."

"Yes, but this was entirely my fault. I...I am not a good man, Belle," he said. "I've done things that I'm not proud of, I know far too many things about too many people. It's in my nature, I am a deal maker, a keeper of favours, and a collector of secrets. If you would rather..."

"Robert Gold, are you breaking up with me on our first date?" Belle asked sharply. She had been startled, it was true. She had seen him defend her before, but that had been different. Still, it only proved again that he was a layered man, and she decided that she wanted to get to know the rest of those layers. While Belle had to admit, if only to herself, that she was a little shaken, the Spencers had come after him. He had only defended himself and her. They had been offered a way out. If they refused to take it, it was hardly Robert's fault.

"I'm offering you an out," he told her. "In case you are not comfortable with me."

Belle leaned across the table and put her hand on his. "I don't expect you to be a saint, Robert, and I am comfortable with you. They are the ones who interrupted our meal."

"I am to take it that James Spencer was the gentleman that accosted you earlier?"

"I wouldn't call him an gentleman, nor was I particularly accosted. He is the one that annoyed me, though," Belle said. "Who tries to pick up someone in a restaurant when there are two menus on the table?"

"Yes, well, young Spencer is anything but subtle. His father has been cleaning up after him for years. As to the father, he is angry about a real estate deal that he...not so much missed out on, but rather, didn't realise I had a prior claim on. But I also know a few things he would rather I didn't, and he certainly doesn't want them public."

"The odd thing is, at first I thought I knew him. He looks just like a friend and neighbour of mine. He has a slightly different accent, but they are just alike. David lives upstairs from me."

"Oh?" Robert said. There was a strange look on his face. "Interesting. So the other one is here, is he?  That could be...complicated."

"The other one what?" she asked.

"There is a good chance that I can do nothing about the truth coming out now, even if I wanted to," he said, shaking his head. "I suppose I should warn him, depending on if and when I am feeling generous. He's likely to blame me anyway. I am trusting you, Belle. Of course, I would never have known, I've not kept up. Promise me you will tell no one," he said, intense eyes meeting hers.

"Of...of course," she said.

"Albert Spencer's wife couldn't have children. She wanted one desperately. At the time, for some very complicated reasons, I was both doing some legal work for him, and I...became aware of a young woman who was desperate to find a home for her unborn child. Spenser agreed, and I made the arrangements, but it was all very last minute. The girl gave birth to twins. It was a surprise to all of us. But Spencer only wanted one. He took the elder, named him James. He was slightly larger, and the other one was a bit sickly."

"But what does this all...what happened to the other one?"

"His mother couldn't give him up. James was gone practically before she saw him, but David, he was a bit sickly. The money that Spenser paid helped get her set up. Turned out the father hadn't known. They were in high school, he had gone into service, and apparently his parents had not told him and left her to think she had been abandoned. I had helped arrange the payment and get her set up, or I'd not have known. When he came back and found out, he was furious with his parents, and they married. I was out of it by that point, once I finished getting both sides settled, but she sent me a letter of thanks."

"You did a good thing," she told him, reaching out for his hand. Clearly it had bothered him.

"It was business," he said gruffly. "But Spencer has never told the boy that I know of, and I've been holding that back, among other things, for thirty odd years. Knowing that his twin is here in New York, that might not be possible any longer. Now, about dessert..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with this story. I've been having a time of it. Now that our event is over, I have my mother in law. She arrived the day we got home from Camping. I love her, but she is staying for 17 days, so my writing time has been eroded. Please bear with me, and I will update as often as I can. So, here is an extra long one with bits and pieces of the puzzle and the answer to a few questions, and some new ones. You know what to do, read, review, all those great things that make it work it.


	30. Tying up loose ends

 

"Would you like to come up for a coffee or maybe tea?" Belle asked as they pulled up in front of her building, as she prayed frantically that she actually had both. She wasn't necessarily ready for the night to end quite yet, even though she knew that it couldn't be long. Besides, she wasn't sure her apartment, with its flaky heat, not to mention the second hand furniture, and the old bed on a frame of milk crates, was quite the place for a man like Robert Gold, but she did want a little more time alone with him, something that had been sorely missing from their dinner. Besides, she needed a little reassurance, she had been shaken by their experience, though less so by the events than his reaction. He had seemed so very...defeated, certain that she would want nothing to do with him and she needed to show him he was wrong. Maybe she should invite him over for a meal? But she really hated cooking in her tiny kitchen and she wasn't entirely sure he would accept, not once he saw the place.

"I would like that," Robert agreed quickly. Among other things, it would allow him to make sure the door wasn't unlocked again, and give Jefferson's agent time to settle in.

The door was, in fact, locked, which was something, but one step into the small foyer told him that either some people hadn't got the memo that inspectors and other official persons were poking around, or they were too stupid to care. The smoke was almost palpable as was the smell. That Belle didn't seem to notice spoke to it being a regular occurrence as well, which didn't make him happy. The sooner he could get the paperwork taken care of, the sooner he could get the building, the sooner some people would find themselves with a need of new accommodations, at least once the police were finished with them. Whatever happened to indulging in dodgy fags on the fire escape or the roof the way they, (and he, if he were honest) had done in his day?

Belle led him up the stairs to her door. "I'm going to apologise in advance for the mess. Things have been a little..."

"I promise to pay not attention to anything but you," he said, with a crooked smile. Belle took a few moments to fight with the door (place needed to be repainted, he noted) while what sounded like a small dog snuffled and barked from under the door next to hers.

"Oh, hush, Charlie," Belle said with a smile and she finally got the lock open and waved him in.

The entry was small and dark, just slightly larger than the swing of the door. Belle, or someone before her, had hung a row of hooks opposite it for coats and things. To the left of the door was a hall leading further into the apartment, a faint light coming from the far end.

"Give me your coat," Belle told him as she hung her own on one of the hooks. He slipped out of his coat and handed it and the scarf to her to hang next to hers. Robert noticed her hands lingering on the soft cashmere and made a note to find one for her for the winter which was approaching quickly this year.

She led him down the long hall which, he was aware from his review of the blueprints, ran most of the way through the apartment. One wall of the hall was occupied by a series of mismatched flat pack bookshelves, while the other side held photographs, drawing and other things related to her studies, along with what must be family photographs as well as pictures of her and her friends and members of the burlesque troupe in and out of costume. He wished he could examine them more closely, but the hall was unlit, the light coming from the room at the end as well as some spilling from a small night light in the bathroom on his right.

"Sorry for the light," she said as if reading his mind. "The bulb went," she told him with a shrug as she pointed to the ceiling a good ten or more feet above her head.

"Surely the super..." he started.

"He says he will get to it," Belle told him, but her tone held both disbelief and resignation.

"Would you like me to send someone to tend to it?" Robert asked.

"It really isn't necessary. I wouldn't want to put anyone out," she told him.

"It's no trouble. I'll have the man who handles odd jobs for me come and see to it," he told her smoothly, brushing aside all protest. "I wouldn't want you to fall," he told her. It would also let the man have a look at whatever else was going to need tending, once the sale went through, which it would, and sooner rather than later.

"Please have a seat," Belle said, gesturing to the futon, covered with a faded tie dye cover that had probably originally come from one of the street markets around the city. "Coffee or tea?" she asked.

"Tea please, I've never been much of a coffee drinker, truth be told," Robert said as he looked around the room. The bulk of the apartment consisted of one middling large room that was both living room and dining room or in Belle's case, it looked like living room/study/studio. To his left, sharing a wall with the hallway was what must be her bedroom. The door was half closed and he made no move to try to look further. If Belle wanted to show him her bedroom, she would extend the invitation and this early in their relationship, he shouldn't even be thinking about it, or more than he already was.

On the other side of the living room from the bedroom, the back wall of the apartment was dominated by two almost floor to ceiling windows which probably gave good light and was one of the few redeeming features of the apartment, he supposed. Next to them, jutting out the back like some kind of growth or an afterthought, was a kitchen that he was almost certain was smaller than his pantry, and it was from there that Belle emerged with two cups of tea. "Good thing you wanted tea. I got one of those Kurieg things for Christmas, but if I don't remember to unplug my computer, it blows the circuit breaker," she said.

He made a note to add that to the list of things that needed seeing to. Robert sat himself on the futon in front of a table that may very well have been rescued from the dustbinmen, its surface littered with an assortment of things, pens, pencils, a sketchbook, a large pair of headphones and...

"Oh my God, I'm so..." Belle blushed prettily as she swept the half dozen individual condom packets from the table into her book bag. "I must have dumped them out when I was getting things out..."

"Belle, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he told her, though if he were honest, his masculine pride perked up a bit. "I've no intention of making assumptions based on... anything. No pressure, okay? I want us to take things at whatever pace you like."

"I know, it's just...Ruby gave them to me, just in case we..." She blushed again and he couldn't help himself as his eyes followed it down, or wondering exactly how far it went. "I must have taken them out of my bag and forgotten," Belle said quickly.

"Belle," Robert said, choosing his words with care After earlier, when she had gotten to see the other side of him, he was treading very carefully. "No man could help but be flattered when a beautiful woman thinks enough of his attentions to be prepared." He reached out and she moved closer under his arm.

"Well, I was a girl scout," she told him with a grin, relaxing against him.

 

"Now, gentleman," Robert Gold said from his position at the head of the conference table. "You see the position that you are in." At the table were three men, two older than the third, all dressed in black suits and yarmulkes, the black hats sitting next to them on the table identifying them as members of the city's large Orthodox Jewish population, a group that also owned a great deal of the real estate in the neighbourhood that Belle currently occupied. Robert had been somewhat grateful when the title search had revealed that not only where they not of the Hassidum, which would have made purchasing the property somewhat problematic, but that he knew at least two of them casually.  The third was the wild card.

"Are you certain about this?" the oldest of the three asked. "They came with very good recommendations and..."

Gold looked at him steadily and the man looked back down at the file before him. It was well known that Robert Gold never made a move without being certain and he was wrong so rarely in business as to make it negligible. In fact, it had been so long that noone could actually remember when. Of course, he was also well known to keep his dealings private. Gold neither courted the media spotlight like Trump (who, it was well known in certain circles, he despised and the feeling was mutual) nor was he known to manipulate it and use it, the way Kenneth Irons did. In fact, of the men he was known to be associated with, he was the one least known and, while not necessarily the richest (though that was debatable, since no one was sure) arguably the one who wielded the most power behind the scenes.

Shlomo Goldstein looked back down at the papers, charts, reports, and graphs, all telling him two things, first that he was being screwed, and second that his only choice was giving Gold what he wanted, which would at least salvage something of the situation. He was semi retired, and had been seriously considering taking the wife down to Florida and leaving the business in the hands of their younger partner, but now he was not so sure. He sighed and looked at his partners. Moishe Levinson was looking much the way he felt, but David was another matter.

"The offer is more than fair," Gold said quietly.

"Hardly. There is no reason to change our plans. This could all be nothing but smoke and mirrors," David argued, looking daggers at the Scot. "Why should..."

"David," Moishe Levinson said sharply. He was almost as old as his partner, and if anything, more cautious, especially when Gold was involved, though there was a story there that Shlomo had never asked about. Maybe when they were both in Florida, fishing.

"I am surprised that you feel that way, Mr. Cohen," Gold said looking the man over appraisingly as if he were examining an interesting new species, or, knowing the man, appraising an antique of questionable provenance. He leaned forward and pressed the intercom button. "Mrs. Potter, do you have that report I sent for?"

"Yes, Sir," the woman answered promptly.

"Bring it in, please." Moments later the woman walked in, and handed her boss a bound report, the cover labeled 'Private and Confidential'. Gold took it and waved her out before opening it, casting a cursory look over the page before pitching it onto the table in front of David Cohen. It landed with a soft 'thump'.

The man reached out nervously and picked it up slowly, as if it might bite. Then he flipped it open. Immediately, his colour heightened and then, just as dramatically, dropped. "You..." he started.

Gold looked at him levelly, his gaze cold, almost reptilian. "Would you care to share?" he asked, his voice almost amused.

"David, is everything all right?" Moishe asked.

"I...it's fine, Sir. Mr. Gold's offer is acceptable."

"Is there something..."

"Mr. Gold just reminded me of some other business interests of mine that might be better served if this deal went through. Nothing to concern the firm with," he said vaguely.

"Then we have a deal?" Gold asked. He was only enjoying the wrangling a bit. Thus far it had been interesting and vaguely amusing. He could have enjoyed the game a great deal more if Belle's safety wasn't of paramount concern.

Actually, he had almost been hoping that David Cohen would put up more of a fight and given him an excuse to use the information he had just casually tossed on the table. He had done the odd bit of business with Goldstein and Levinson, and dealt with them casually for a number of years. Though there was a bit of difficulty with Levinson once. Still, neither of them deserved David Cohen. He was certain that neither of his business partners, one of whom was his father in law, though Robert couldn't remember which at the moment, knew he was the silent partner in the management company that had been mishandling the building and cheating them. Of course, now that he knew that Robert knew...well, it was all to the good. "So, gentlemen, to the contract."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, sorry this had taken so long. If you are following any of my other stories, you know that I have had an attack of life and an extended visiit from the mother in law that has kept me from my writing. But I hope that this update will make up for that somewhat. Please, read, review and all those things. Questions, comments, complaints, you know what to do. 
> 
>  
> 
> Notes--  
> The area of Brooklyn which Belle occupies is, like many neighbourhoods in Brooklyn, still heavily ethnic. In this case, Williamsburg is primarily Jewish, with Orthodox and Satmar Hassids making up big portions of the population. I chose to make the company that owned the building Orthodox for many reasons, the largest being that the hassids are very insular, and it would be difficult to make that work. 
> 
> The names, Moishe and Shlomo are both common Jewish names, especially among the older generation, and translate to Moses and Soloman. 
> 
> The dog is named after the little furball whose home is at least part of the inspiration (or something) for Belle's apartment, and also, who I'm babysitting this weekend.


	31. Let there be light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet another familiar face.

"You see, simple. No trouble, this, not with the right tool, especially with no cover. But this bare bulb, it is no good. You need a proper fixture, maybe a fan, yes?"

Belle laughed. "I don't think my landlord is going to go for that."

"Eh, landlords, some are good, some not so. I think this one is not so good," Marco said with a shrug. "It's no problem. I see what I can find. I have many odds and ends lying around."

"I wouldn't want to put you out," she told him. She had not seen Robert since their dinner Monday night, though they had talked every day. She had been busy with the finishing touches on the exhibit and the last minute fittings for her new costume. Robert had been in meetings for several days, calling her between, but true to his word, he had sent Marco around to fix the light bulb for her.

Belle had taken a half day off from her job at the library for her appointment at Health Services, so she had some time before the meeting. In leiu of practice this week, they were meeting to talk about Regina's offer. Robert had told expressed hope that he could join her. He had been invited, Abby told her he had reviewed the contract, but if not, he was going to try to join her for a late dinner. "Have you worked for Robert for long?" she asked.

"Mr. Gold? I work for him now and again. Well, it's not easy to say. You see, when I come to this country, I work what ever I could get. My wife, she died and I had my boy to take care of. I get jobs, maintenance, construction, what ever there was. But my love, my skill, it is in wood. My father, my grandfather, all the way back. We craft fine things, but there is not so very much work anymore. So, I do other things, I learn to fix, when to do the work, and when to call the plumber, yes?"

Belle nodded. The old man was a very interesting speaker. "So you were working and..."

"Ah, yes. So, I'm working in a pre war building, repairing the wood moulding. I have to carve a new piece for it. Mr. Gold, he says, can I do repairs on a desk. I say I will try, so I do it. He is pleased with my work, he tells his friends, and soon, I have more. I do wood carving, build custom pieces. They find out that I can restore antiques, furniture for auction houses. Good work, my kind of work. I end up making a business of it.

But I'm getting older and my son, he's not like me. So, I shut down the business, retire. But I find I don't retire so very good, I get bored sitting with the other old men, going to the park. I think I'm going to go crazy. So I go to see Mr. Gold, say if he maybe has a little work going, just enough to keep busy, you know?"

"Oh yes, I understand," she told him. "My father has a small flower shop up in Maine. He likes the work, he says it keeps him getting up, even though his assistant does most of the deliveries. He says being behind the counter, talking to people, it keeps his mind active."

"Just so. I tell my boy the same thing. He is good, creative, he writes and he draws books for children, my boy." he said proudly. "Like his mama. But, as I say, Mr. Gold, I do a little this, a little maintenance, and I still take the odd restoration. Even I carve a little still, though the eyes, they aren't so good as they were. But, for now, you have light," he said, flicking the wall switch. Immediately the hall was filled with light. "Just so," he said with no small measure of satisfaction. "Maybe, I do the others while I'm here?" Marco asked, looking around. "I have the tool, and these are good light bulbs, they last a very long time, not like the one I took out." He grimaced at the old bulb in his hand.

"I wouldn't want to take up your time," Belle told him.

"Me? I'm an old man, retired. Time, this I have plenty of." he said as he gathered his tools and ladder and went into the living room.

An hour later, when Belle walked down with him on her way to the meeting, she had all new LED light bulbs (they still be here when you've gone, he assured her), the window grate latch worked again, and he'd fixed a drip in the sink that had been there before she had moved in. He had also pushed aside any attempt to pay him. "Mr. Gold, he already take care of me, the rest...for the pleasure of meeting a beautiful young lady, this I would have done for free," Marco told her, bowing over her hand with old fashioned charm.

"Surely there is something..."

"No. I don't suppose you are single, and Catholic?" he teased. She shook her head, smiling. "Ehhhhh, I am looking for a good girl, for my son, August. He takes too long, all the good ones are gone, I tell him. And so it is."

There was a commotion going on out in front of the building as they reached the foyer, and Marco stepped carefully in front of her. "Perhaps, we wait?" he told her as they looked out front.

In front of the building, Angelo was being restrained by two large men, while he yelled at a third that they could not see. The super could be heard clearly though. "You can't do that. I..."

"You were told that your services were no longer needed and that you were to vacate the premises. You are still here. So..." Up from the basement, where the super's apartment was, a bundle of something flew towards him. "That was not breakable. I can't speak for the next one."

 

"I think your super, he is not longer your super," Marco commented.

"Yes, it looks like it. I suppose they finally listened to the complaints. I hope the next one is better."

"Maybe. New owner, new management company, something. But you may still call me, if you need. I think the new super might be a little busy for a while, if the work I see is an example. You take my card, yes?" There was nothing Belle could do but agree, not without being rude to the charming old man. "Now, I walk you to the train, avoid this...unpleasantness." He waved in the direction of the men arguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Just a little something more before the story gets on. Please, read, review, all those things.


	32. Arrangements

 

Across the street, a man was watching the proceedings with interest. The removal of the super was going to make this so much easier. Everyone would be watching the drama out front, no one would be paying attention to anything else, including the ex-super. Now all they needed was to wait for the supplier to show up. It was time. He pulled out his cell and dialed a number. One good turn...besides he had promised. "Hey Swan. Yeah, two hours, max, this guy is pretty regular."

"You got entry? Gold's only request is that you don't break anything unnecessarily."

"We've got it. His guy came and unlocked the back for us. Thanks for the help," he told her.

"He may be a lot of things, but he doesn't like trouble unless he's causing it, and on a much larger scale. Plus, he doesn't want to have to replace more than he has to."

After a few more pleasantries, including a favour owed, Emma got off the phone and immediately dialed a number she rarely used.

Belle had just emerged from the subway and was texting Ruby when her phone began to ring. She looked at the caller ID and smiled. "Robert," she answered warmly. "Please tell me you aren't calling to cancel our dinner tonight."

"Not at all, the opposite, in fact. With a little bit of work, I might even be earlier than expected. Did Marco take care of your light problem?" he asked, trying to find a way to bring up her location or at least make sure she was out of the apartment. Not that he was expecting it to be some kind of telly invasion, with gunfire and the lot. In fact, since he had arranged for them to have access, it would probably happen without much more than a broken door on the apartment, but Emma had said they were waiting for the supplier, which made him just a tad more concerned. Regardless, he would feel better if Belle were far away.

"He did. Actually he did a lot more than that, and he wouldn't let me pay him. You shouldn't have, you know."

"It's no matter," he told her, dismissively.

"It is, but we can discuss that later. He was such an old fashioned gentleman. He even insisted on walking me to the subway. There was some kind of altercation going on out front. It looks like the super finally got himself fired. He was arguing with a couple men who were throwing his things out"

"Sounds like it was time and past. I'd not keep a super who did his job that poorly. But enough about him. What do you want to do for dinner? I've spent too much time this week on other things," Robert said with a sigh of relief. Of course, Marco would fix whatever he saw and could do so casually. He was good, and reliable. The new super, Tom, some relative of Walter's that he had recommended personally, was moving in tomorrow and the locksmith was coming to fix and change the locks. He wouldn't put it past the man to have kept keys. Actually he wouldn't put it past him not to have been doing the mandatory rekeying of the locks when the tenants moved out. Robert wished he could find a good reason to keep Belle out of her apartment until then, but nothing was coming to mind, and he decided to worry about it later.

Something else was bothering him. He knew he should be concerned about how much he cared for her, about his desire to protect her. He had never felt that way about any of his other lovers. He had not even felt that way about Milah, or at least he couldn't remember feeling that way about her. It might be the bitterness left over from her betrayal of him, and of Bae, but looking back it just seemed so much shallower. Not that he hadn't thought himself in love with her at the time, but had he ever felt so protective of her? Of course, Milah had never really needed to be protected. Like him, she was from what would politely be called 'a rough neighbourhood', and other things if one wasn't so very polite. Where Belle was intelligent and open, Milah had been canny, unsurprisingly. He had never known what she saw in him when they first started dating, he was not exactly the handsomest bloke, though he did well enough. Being smaller than a lot of the others, he had learned to compensate by being quicker and fighting dirtier, but he was no hard man, more like a winger. Still, he had made it out, made something of his life. Considering that most of the blokes they knew in the old neighbourhood had been sent up, were dead, or both, he wondered if that was what it had been about all along. How much had been him, and how much had been that she knew he would do anything to get them out of there? Belle's voice pulled him out of those dark thoughts.

"We are meeting at Regina's club, so she can answer any questions. I don't know the area well," Belle admitted. "Though I suppose with this deal, if we agree, I will. There is The Meatball Shop?"

Gold thought about it. It was a noisy place, very casual, but he wasn't certain he was up for the bustle, especially not when he had Belle to himself. "Are you down there?" he asked.

"Almost, I'm meeting Ruby near the Whole Foods, different trains."

"Why don't you keep an eye out, see if there is something that appeals to you. If not, we can always go somewhere else. Sushi, Italian? We aren't that far from Little Italy."

Belle laughed happily. It was a sound that made his heart beat a little faster. "All right, we will decide afterward. All I really want is to see you," she told him.

The tone of voice was enough to make him forget just about everything he had to do in the next hour, and throw it all over to be at her side. Instead he reined himself back in. It wasn't like him to lose his head over a girl. "I...I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her before ringing off. Robert Gold knew he was in trouble, and at the moment, he was having a lot of difficulty finding it in himself to care. Instead of allowing himself any more introspection he hit the key on the intercom. "Mrs. Potter, please see that all those papers are on my desk in the next..." he looked at his watch, "thirty minutes. Any delay will not be taken lightly."

"Yes, sir," the woman said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. I have really enjoyed the response to this. Please read, respond and all those things.
> 
>  
> 
> Notes-- 
> 
> Yes, the Meatball Shop is a real place, good food, but it takes casual to a whole new level. You write on the menus with wax crayons.


	33. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby wants some answers and a threat is given.

 

Belle was just hanging up as Ruby bounced up from the subway entrance. "Hey, talking to your boyfriend?" she teased as they hugged.

"He's not my..." Belle started. She wasn't exactly sure what they were but 'boyfriend' was so childish and Robert was so dignified.

"Yeah, whatever. So what's up tonight? You seeing him? Astrid should have your costume, maybe you can get him to help you with your busk," her friend said as they fell in next to each other continuing the walk down the street.

"We are going to dinner. He is coming for at least some of the meeting, though I don't know how much."

"Okay, I knew that you guys are trying to spend time together, but the meeting? Seriously? Besides, he's not a member of the troupe, so why is he coming? I mean, it's not like Phillip was invited," Ruby responded.

"Yes, but Phillip isn't a lawyer. He offered to review the contract for Abby. I don't think he believed that Regina would try to cheat us or something, but he's cautious," Belle said.

"A lawyer, huh? Well, I figured he didn't pay for that suit or that apartment flipping burgers, but that's not bad. I don't suppose he has any cute friends?"

Belle didn't respond. She wasn't about to give her friend any more information, or ammunition for that matter. She just shrugged noncommittally.

"So, tell me more. He's a lawyer, he has a kid, actually a grand kid. Do you know anything about his wife? Divorced, dead, ripped her heart out and buried her under the floor, what? I mean, really."

"Eeewwwww," Belle responded with disgust. "Where did you get that? Have you been watching the horror channel again? I don't know what happened and before you say it, I don't want to know. It's none of my business. I mean we just started...whatever it is that we are doing."

"Of course, it is," Ruby argued. "I mean, you need to know what kind of guy you are hooking up with."

"We are not 'hooking up' for a start. But it's _really_ nothing to do with me. Besides I get the impression that it was a long time ago. He..." She stopped. There was no way she was going to tell Ruby about his relationship with the senior Mrs...whatever Regina's mother was called. Ruby was a lot of things, faithful, loyal, fierce, and a complete and unabashed nosy parker of the first order. She would figure a way to corner Regina and ask her things that were none of her business, all in an attempt to be a good friend.

"Hey, he's a friend of Abby's dad, maybe we could ask Abby."

"Ask me what?" Both of them jumped. "What, I was trying to catch up back there but the light caught me. Besides you were talking. What did you want to ask now?" she asked as they went around to the side of the club, towards the back entrance. The place wasn't open for another hour, but they were going to have the meeting upstairs, and there was no performance tonight.

"Nothing," Belle said.

"About her new boyfriend," Ruby disputed.

"Oh," Abby responded. Belle looked at her, trying to convey her discomfort. "I don't know, I wouldn't feel right about..."

"Just one thing," Ruby responded. "One thing and I will let it go."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, it's not something really private, just this once," Ruby wheedled.

"What do you want to know?" Abby said with a resigned sigh. It was hard to get around Ruby.

"He was married once, so what happened? I mean, is she still around? Likely to turn up at an inopportune moment?"

Abby looked at the two of them. Certainly Belle had a interest, but she wasn't asking. Still, probably better if she headed off the questions.

"Okay, I'll tell you this, and you promise to let it drop?" Abby asked, looking around.

"Sure," Ruby said.

"I don't...really," Belle seemed a little uncomfortable, but maybe this would keep the awkward questions down.

"Yes, he was married. But it was a long time ago, and I mean a long time, as in when Bae was little. She just left him, ran off with another man, didn't even try to take Bae with her. That's what I know. Bae never talked about her really. She died though, when we were in college I think. So you don't have to worry about her coming around, but now you know why it's a bad subject," Abby told Ruby pointedly.

"Lips zipped, got it," Ruby said, miming the international symbol for zipper. "But on the plus side, she's not going to be coming around."

 

Gold had hurried out of the office right on time, with plans only to get through the meeting and spend time with Belle. The last few days had been too busy for both of them, and though they had talked tentatively about the weekend, nothing was settled, and he wanted to see her _now_. Dove had dropped him at the end of the block.  Between the traffic and the one way streets, it was just faster.

He'd reached the corner and was turning towards the back door when a large hand landed on his arm. Gold looked up in irritation. "Hey Buddy," the man at the end of the hand said. Gold gave him a coldly appraising look.

"I'm not your buddy, now..."

"I'm talkin' here, and if you're smart, you're listening. The woman is taken, got it? So if you know what's good for you, you'll just back off and no one will get hurt."

"The lady doesn't seem to see it that way, and I value _her_ opinion. Now, if you are finished being an arse, I'll be on my way."

"What does she know, she's a chick. Chicks don't know what's good for them. She'll come around, least she will if you keep your hands to yourself. If not, well a lot of things can happen to an old man in this city. know what I mean?"

Gold looked at him. The man was tall, broad and had eyes like a cow, but with less intelligence. There was only one person he could think of that would be this stupid. Not that he hadn't considered the possibility, but it was entirely too obvious, even for this nob end or so he thought. Actually he had been betting on Rose himself. The difference was, he was fairly certain the boy would recognize him and be smarter.

He leaned back and shifted his weight, not that he was really expecting a punch up, the street was still plenty full, but clearly Jefferson had also underestimated his stupidity. "The lady is none of your concern. If you approach either of us again, you will regret it," Gold said, his voice dropping to menacing levels that had sent much more intelligent people fleeing.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you think you can do, old man?"

"First, I'll take my cane to both of your knees," he said conversationally. "Then when the police arrive, I will press charges, stating that you attacked me and I was in fear for my life. You will spend the next several weeks in the secure ward at Bellevue, until you are well enough to be transferred to Riker's. You see, I have a certain amount of pull in this town, and I have no doubt that you will be unable to post bail. That's assuming that you could get it. I can be very persuasive. You will be tried for aggrevatted assault, which is believable, especially when you consider your record and that I am both older and disabled, and that's before the civil case. I am a _very_ good attorney, and believe me that when I've done with you, you'll not have a pot to piss in nor a window the throw it out of. And that's assuming I'm feeling generous. Now, run along back off to your master like the lap dog ye' are, and tell him that Robert Gold isn't someone he wants to be playin' wit'. Do we understand each other?" he asked. His voice had sunk into dangerous depths and his accent, usually kept carefully in place, was showing 'round the edges.

"Why you little..." Nottingham reached out, but Gold grabbed the hand before it fell, and twisted.

"I said, run along, dearie. _**Now**_."

"Mr. Gold," someone called his name and he released the man, turning with an almost pleasant smile.

"Hello, Astrid, yes?"

"Yes, that's it. I'm running late as always, but I was just finishing this, and I couldn't stop." She held up a garment bag. "I"m not interrupting, am I?" she asked as Nottingham turned and went the other way.

"No, the gentleman just had a question. I've set him straight. May I take that for you?" he asked, turning to walk with her the rest of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thank you all for keeping up with this story. I am glad that people are enjoying it. Thee are so many stories to tell but I am glad that this one has it's place. Please do all the things, read, comment and all those happy, muse inspiring things.


	34. A brief visit to the department of backstory.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold talks to Jefferson and finds out what happened to Daniel.

 

Gold walked Astrid as far as the stairs to the upper room before excusing himself to make a call. "The answer is, he is _exactly_  that stupid," the man said without preamble as soon as Jefferson picked up.

"Good to hear from you too. You know, it's a good thing you have my private number, you'd make my secretary crazy, well crazier. I'm getting the text blow by blow right now. My operative wasn't sure whether to call 911 or the morgue. Pity that intimidation does not trump stupid."

"Aye, well, if he'd tried it on with Belle here..." Gold paused. "But, I'm gettin' the distinct feeling that is not Rose's game."

"Nope. I'm thinking he wanted to see if he could warn you off, and then just try to slither in, if you know what I mean. He's the type to try to isolate her first if he can. Fortunately from what I hear, she is too smart, and too independent for that, and her friends are extremely loyal."

"I agree, and it's not going to happen. Perhaps I should arrange a polite conversation with young Rose," Gold suggested darkly.

"I am not hearing this," Jefferson said with a just a hint of warning. "And of course, if I were hearing it, I would have to tell you legally that thus far, he has not done anything actionable." Jefferson had worked for Gold a long time, he knew the man well. "There is no proof of a connection between Nottingham and Rose. Right now we have more than enough evidence to get a stalking charge for Nottingham, with the right lawyer of course, but..."

"But Belle would have to swear out the complaint and I would have to explain how and why I obtained that evidence," Gold responded. "Still, let's hold that as a possible. Could we get him done for stalking me?"

"Drag him in for stalking you, get him to blurt out that he was after the girl, just to save his masculine pride?" Jefferson asked thoughtfully. "Well, he's stupid enough, and macho enough, especially when he's drunk. That has possibilities as well."

"Regardless, he's made the first move. Let us see what happens when he goes back to Rose and tells him the outcome, hmmm? Can you get a man on him too?"

"The Rose that definitely doesn't smell sweet, regardless of name? Certainly. I've got a couple of people who can do it. The kid loves the nightlife, parties, nightclubs with upscale and expensive VIP rooms. Maybe if we get lucky, he will notice one of them and try to make a move. Merida loves a good dance club, almost as much as she loves using her black belt moves on handsy jerks," Jefferson told him, his voice accompanied by the scratch of a pen. "Now, while I've got you here, I've got a little information on that other matter."

"Cora?" he asked, feeling a bit of rising dread. After all this time, he still felt distinctly uncomfortable about her.

"Not exactly. The kid, Daniel. It's not pretty," The Hatter warned him. "And I don't know how much of this is real, it's...too pat."

"Tell me," he said. Not that he was sure he wanted to know, but Robert Gold had never been one to shy away from the nastier things in life. He'd spent enough time living with them.

"Daniel Steward, born in Brooklyn, and not the nice part, father died in a bodega robbery when he was ten, mother a nurse at Downstate, excellent marks, hard working, won a scholarship to Dalton in the fifth grade after winning a state academic prize that brought him to their attention. Straight A student, not much of a social life, which is no surprise, considering the kids he was going to school with. I'm betting his uniforms were all secondhand and he didn't exactly have money or free time. He had two part time jobs, one as a delivery boy for a local pharmacy and the stable boy gig that you knew about at the stable in Central Park."

"Can I assume you will get to the point _before_ the next ice age?" Gold snapped.

Jefferson sighed, which was, in itself, a warning. If the Hatter didn't want to talk, it was bad. "Arrested April, 1996 for possession with intent. They accused him of stealing veterinary drugs, specifically ketamine, from the drugs cupboard at the stable and selling it, along with other drugs, under cover of deliveries. The case was open and shut, a little too open and shut if you know what I mean?"

"Ahhhh," Gold responded. He didn't need a diagram to see the rest. Poor kid, no money, no lawyer worth the name, especially when the Public Defender's office was as overworked as it was. Still, he wondered. He wouldn't be the first kid to go for the easy money, Gold knew that one well from his own misspent youth, but Daniel didn't seem the type.

"It should have been pretty simple, first timer, good kid, no record, two jobs, volunteer work, the whole nine yards. Even Legal Aid should have been able to get it down to family court and some juvie time, but it didn't happen. He ended up going down as an adult. They offered him a plea if he rolled on anyone else, but since I doubt very seriously that he had anyone to roll on, it didn't happen."

"Do you think Cora set it up?" Gold asked.

"To protect her darling daughter from making what she saw as a big mistake? Do you even need to ask that question? Anyway, let me finish the story so that I have a hope of getting my appetite back by the time I get home. Grace is working on her cooking badge for Girl Scouts and I promised to eat it all. So, Daniel ends up at Riker's. Six months later, he was dead, killed in the middle of a scuffle in the line to the mess."

"Fuckin' Hell," Gold said softly.

"Yeah, it was a disagreement between a couple of rival gang bangers trying to knife each other with toothbrush shivs. The kid wasn't involved, no history of gang affiliation even inside. Everything in the records looks like he was trying to keep his head down and do his time. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Doesn't mean that if Cora set it up, the blood isn't on her hands. Does Regina know any of this?" he asked. Gold wasn't sure why he asked. He had the answers, or some of them. Did he really want her to know was the question.  Was he going to keep digging into this and would it make any difference now? Robert wasn't sure why he even cared. He tried to tell himself that it was leverage on Cora, something he could pull out if he needed to drive a wedge between mother and daughter should they team up against him, but he knew that wasn't all of it.

"About the arrest? Yes, at least I think so. He was arrested at the stables, and there is a good chance she was there at the time. But it didn't make the papers, no one particularly cared about a single drug bust of a kid from Brooklyn, especially when the school was falling all over itself trying to put some distance between them. You know who goes there as well as I do."

"Yes," Gold replied. He did. It was a good school, an expensive school, and unfortunately many of the kids that went there had parents with too much money and not enough time. Both Bae and Abigail had attended though they had avoided most of those problems. They had both run with the arts crowd and their father were both powerful enough that no one was likely to give them a hard time. Still...

"Are you planning to tell her?" Jefferson asked.

"I don't know," Gold told him finally.

The rest of the information was not nearly so exciting, at least not at the moment. Cora was last seen in Greece, taking in the warm weather. As she had never been fond of the cold, he was pretty certain that she was parked for the moment, though he had to wonder. Regina was good at judging her mother, better than pretty much anyone else. The situation bore watching and he said so.

"It's your money," Jefferson said. "But I happen to agree with you. That one is sneaky, and not to be trusted. If I had her over to tea, I'd check the pot for hemlock, before and after." With that he rang off, and left Gold to make his way upstairs lost in thought.


	35. Meeting and Message

When Gold got into the room, Regina was busy with her pitch, telling them all what they would be gaining by taking her offer. The deal was good, and he knew it, but he paid her little attention. Instead, he scanned the room, eyes lighting instantly on Belle and the seat that she indicated she was saving for him. He made his way over and into the seat just as Regina finished her spiel. "I will leave you alone to discuss this," she said before leaving the room.

"Okay," Abigail said as soon as they were alone. "I guess now is the time for us to make our decision and vote. Mr. Gold is here as well. He has reviewed the contract and pronounced it solid." He nodded as the attention turned momentarily to him. "So, if anyone has questions, now is the time to ask. Let's call it fifteen minutes to take a break and then we will take a vote on it."

Instantly the noise level in the room rose as people began talking among themselves. He turned to Belle, who gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. He wasn't surprised. She was very friendly, but he also knew she had been getting a little teasing from her friends, at least from Ruby. "I'm glad you made it," she told him.

"Why, do you have questions about the contract?" he teased.

"The contract, no, but I was a little afraid something would come up."

"No, nothing at all. I might have had to skin a few people, and tack their pelts to my wall, but..." he gave her a shrug and a crooked smile.

Belle giggled a little. "Still trying to playing the monster," she said fondly. Then she turned with annoyance and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Excuse me, someone keeps texting me, though I don't know who. Almost everyone I know is here already," she told him, turning her attention to the phone just as Mei Leung came to ask him a question.

When the young asian woman was done, he turned back to find Belle staring at her phone in disbelief. For a moment, Robert was afraid that Gaston had got her number and was texting her, but she looked more confused than angry. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked, putting a hand on her arm.

"It's David, you know the neighbour I was talking about before?" Robert nodded, patiently, a pleasant idea swirling around in the back of his mind. "He says the police are all over the building. He was home, when a police officer came to his door and took him out, along with everyone else. Apparently they were doing a drugs raid on the apartment across from him. He's directly over me."

"I am glad that you weren't home then," he told her honestly. "Though I doubt it was too dangerous, still..."

"I didn't even know there _were_ drug dealers in the building," Belle said, distressed.

"That's all right, love. But the question is, are you going to be able to get back into your apartment?" Gold was secretly smiling. This could work out better than he'd ever planned.

"I..." she started, texting quickly. "David doesn't know," Belle said a moment later, still looking at her phone. "He is on his way to stay with one of his friends from work, just in case. He's the assistant administrator at one of the animal shelters, so he works odd hours."

"You know that you are more than welcome to...sleep over, as Henry says," he told her.

"I _would_ like that," she said, looking at him with regret. "But all my things are at home and..."

"And Dove can drive you home in the morning and take you to school. Belle, please. I would feel better and besides, even if you could get in, who knows how long the police will be at it? Probably loud and annoying. You wouldn't be able to rest," he said, at his persuasive best.

"Well," she said. Honestly, she really hadn't any arguments. In fact, if it weren't for her books being at home, she would have been willing from the first. "All right," she acquiesced as Abby called them back to order.

 

The meeting finished up with the acceptance and signing of the contract. Regina had champagne chilled and a mockup of a new promotional poster already. "It always pays to be prepared," she said. "We will need do some new pictures, of course, but you have two more scheduled shows, as I recall."

"The circus show, two weeks at that new club in the Meat Packing district," Abby agreed. "We will be able to post the new information on our website and yours."

Astrid came to drag Belle off to look at something while Regina and Abby continued to discuss the minutiae of advertising. Gold remained at the table, passing pleasantries with the odd members of the troupe, when Graham made his way over quietly. Of course, the young man seemed to do everything quietly.

"Thank you for the scotch," the young man said. "You've good taste."

"Well, Jefferson said you'd been exceptionally helpful."

"I'd not ask, but I'm responsible for security here. Is there something or someone I should know about?" the Irishman asked. "I prefer to avoid trouble when it's at all possible."

Just as he was starting to answer, he saw Belle coming towards him, smiling and carrying the garment bag that he had helped Astrid with earlier. "I'll see that Jefferson gives you all the details," Gold told him quietly. Graham nodded and disappeared.

 

Gold and Belle left the meeting together. She had turned the garment bag over to Ruby, saying she didn't want to have to take it to dinner with her. Robert had been incredibly curious, but Belle had promised he'd see it soon enough, but for now, she was hungry. The two of them headed up Second Avenue and he led her down a side street that looked deserted, and a little scary.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I promise," he told her, smiling and holding her arm. "Trust me."

True to his word, as they turned down what really did look like a dark alley, lights and noise came from the far end, announcing the presence of a restaurant, tucked in an out of the way corner of the city. Belle was enchanted. The restaurant consisted of several small rooms, each one looking like something out of a late nineteenth or early twentieth century hunting lodge or gentlemen's club. The room they were shown to had tables for perhaps a dozen, and behind the bar, the bartender was putting on quite a show in his old fashioned shirt with sleeve garters and a bow tie.

"This is lovely," she told him when they were seated in a corner under a light fixture that was clearly reminiscent of a gas lamp and the head of a...something that had clearly been dead for a very long time. Period prints and photos dotted the walls and the ceiling was pressed tin.

"It is that," he told her. "I've not been here in some time, but it has the advantage of good food and convenience. With this deal in place, we may well be coming here more often." Gold took his glass and raised it in salute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as usual, thank you all for continuing to follow this story, and please remember to review and all those happy little things that keep me and the muse happy.
> 
>  
> 
> A couple of New York notes--
> 
> Earlier I referred to a school. Yes, it's real. It's also known for two things, a really good education, and the trouble that some of the kids get into due to too much money and not enough supervision, though which is on top depends. 
> 
> The restaurant in this chapter is also a real place. Called Freeman's Alley, it is, indeed, at the end of blind alley, off a very unpreposessing street between Chrystie and Second Avenue. It's one of my favourite places, and where my husband and I tend to have our Anniversary dinner. If you are ever in New York, it is well worth it, and I will be glad to give directions.


	36. Proposition

 

Dinner was a very pleasant affair. Belle enjoyed herself immensely. She had limited herself to one cocktail, it being a school night, as she told him, a French 75 which had sounded exciting and was. She'd also had a glass of wine with dinner. They had eaten the lovely meal while Belle caught him up on the last two days. She spared a thought for exactly _when_ two days had begun to seem forever, but it wasn't something she wanted to spend too much time on, not now.

"There were two men there, when we left," she was telling him as they waited for the check to come around. "They were throwing the super's things out of his apartment and telling him he was supposed to have been gone already. Marco said that the building must have either changed hands or management companies. I just hope that they don't raise the rent."

"You have a lease, correct?" Robert asked.

"Well, yes. It's got seven months to run, but..."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. In all likelihood someone bought it as a long term investment, waiting for the neighbourhood to gentrify. With all the violations there are, I am certain..."

"What makes you think there are violations?" she asked.

Robert cursed his slip of the tongue. _Idiot_ , he thought to himself, _get out of this._ "Well, from the things you have told me about the place for one thing," he covered smoothly. "Not to mention that sticky door, the light not replaced, then there is that drugs raid. People who keep up with their properties don't have these problems. I've done a fair bit of real estate law in my time, even own a bit myself, investment stuff. Even if they are holding on to it to sell, code violations in this city aren't cheap, and it's always easier to maintain something than to have to replace it when it fails. But as I was saying, they cannot raise your rent until your lease is up, unless you violate the terms. You aren't illegally subletting your bathroom cupboard to a family of mice are you?" he teased, trying to lighten things up.

"Not recently," she responded. "And I hope I've succeeded in evicting those cockroaches. The old man in the apartment beneath me is apparently allergic to taking out his bins." Robert gave her an appalled look, while making a mental note to mention scheduling an exterminator to the new super, not to mention checking the man's lease. "It's not so bad now. It's the summer when it gets horrible," she told him. "But why don't we talk about something else?" she suggested as he signed the check and dropped some notes in the folder for the tip. Belle tried not to look. She wasn't certain she wanted to guess at the bill, and had to remind herself that she promised to take him as he was.

"I agree. How about we discuss this weekend?" he asked as he offered her his arm and they made their way out the door. In the alley were a few couples or groups, either waiting for tables or, like them, preparing to leave. "Either that, or what was in the garment bag that you gave to Miss Lucas?"

"The second one is a surprise," she told him.

"The weekend it is then, " he said, as they made their way down the alley. "How would you like to get out of the city? I have a cabin upstate." They walked out onto the street to find Mr. Dove waiting for them.

"Surely he hasn't been waiting all this time?" she asked.

"Not at all, I called him while you were away from the table," he said, handing her into the car. "Now, back to the weekend," he said, pulling her close to him. "You can have your own room if you wish," he whispered, breath tickling her ear.

"Assuming that I want it?" she asked with a smile.

"I would not want to..." he started, but Belle was very close, and they hadn't had a proper kiss yet. Instead he wrapped her even closer and kissed her. Robert took his time, reacquainting himself with her mouth as if it had been a month and not a couple of days. When he raised his head, he realised they had reached the Transverse heading towards the west side. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, this weekend," he said. He didn't let go though.

"I would love, to but the opening of the exhibit you almost saw last week is tomorrow night, and I"m expected to be there, to show off for the donors," she said sadly. "I was hoping I could convince you to come. I am allowed two people, but Dad can't come all the way down for it. It's a long trip from Maine and it's not as if I've got room for a guest," she said, though her eyes slid away from his.

"Your father has never been to your apartment, has he?" Gold asked preceptively. He rememberedwhen Bae and Emma had first gotten an apartment together. It was an awful little place way uptown, with a sticky window, rust stains in the bath, and a kitchen that was half a galley, on one side of the living room. It had taken him over a year to get them to have him over, really  to tell him where it was. Actually, that had been a good investment as well, he thought.

"He doesn't come to visit. He hates driving in the city and if he takes a plane, he still have to drive to Boston, which amounts to the same thing. Besides, I don't want him to worry."

"Who knows, perhaps now that you have at the very least a new super, things might be better?" he suggested. _And if they aren't, someone will regret it,_ he added to himself.

"Perhaps. I hope so, and if nothing else, March replaced all my lightbulbs. He said the new ones will last five years," she told him. "But that doesn't answer the question of whether or not you will come tomorrow night. I hate this. It's the second one I've had to do. The first one, I hadn't done as much. I mostly tried to hide. It's not as if the larger number of people there care.  They donate money to the museum but how many actually want to ask questions about exhibit design and layout? I wasn't involved in choosing the costumes, that's a different department."

"How did you end up involved?" he asked. "I mean, it seems at odds with the rest of what you are doing. You didn't have to restore any of them, did you?"

"Not really. It was a accident, pure and simple. There was another student who was going to help, but she got sick and ended up in hospital. Cheryl and I are both less that a semester from our internship and we needed a project for our exhibit design, so the professor recommended us. It beat building one on paper. It's actually an honour, but..."

"We are here, sir," Dove said from the front interrupting them. They made their way inside quickly. The night had turned chilly and the wind picked up, practically blowing them into the downstairs hall. Robert took Belle's coat and hung it up before attending his own, tabling the discussion as they tended the little things.

"Would you like tea?" he asked.

"Why don't you let me get it?" she responded. Robert smiled and gestured for her to precede him into the kitchen. Belle making herself at home in his kitchen brought its own little thrill. He sat at the counter while she got the tea things.

"I have a proposition for you," Gold told her.

"Oh?" she asked with a smile and a blush.

"Not that kind of proposition, though we will see...No, what I was thinking was more in the nature of a deal. I will come with you tomorrow night, to keep the boredom at bay." _Not to mention the rich lechers,_ he added to himself. He knew more than his share of _that_ sort. "And when it's over, you and I will go upstate. It's beautiful this time of year."

Belle paused to think about it. A weekend of peace and quiet with Robert, especially since next week was going to be so very busy getting ready for the show sounded wonderful. Besides, despite the fact that they were trying to take things slowly, Belle would be lying if she said she didn't want Robert. Who knew what would happen when they were away in a secluded cabin? "All right then," she said finally. "We have a deal." She came around the counter to sit next to him.

"Not yet, my dear," he told her, pulling her towards him. "I think this should be sealed with a kiss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you dirty minded folk were thinking, shame on you! :) So, thank you all for reading. And of course, you know what to do...


	37. Preparations

 

 

"This is serious, Ruby," Belle cried into her phone. She was trying to juggle it with one hand while searching for her keys with the other, and she didn't have a lot of time. She had called Ruby in a panic the second she had exited the car. Not that she didn't trust Dove, he probably didn't listen anyway, but some things were just too embarrassing. Fortunately, he had told her he would be back in a few moments. Alternate side was in effect, so he had elected to go over to the Starbuck's while she gathered her things.

"Calm down, Belle," Ruby said, but there was still a certain amount of amusement there. Of course that was easy for Ruby. Last night after they had tea, punctuated by kisses, Robert offered to find her something to sleep in and asked if she would like a hot bath. While the allure of spending time with Robert was most certainly strong, she hadn't had a proper bath in an age. Technically there was a bath in her apartment, but the plug didn't work, and no matter what she did, she couldn't get rid of the rust stains by the faucet. So after a final long and promising kiss, she'd reluctantly retired to the same guest room she had spent last weekend in, remembering that they would have a whole weekend to make up for it. A weekend with no distractions, no grandsons, or well meaning friends. She thought about asking if there was even cell reception where they were going, but the question faded away in a tide of hot water. It was only this morning, when Belle had kissed him goodbye while rushing out the door that his reminder to pack a sweater had brought her round to the things she _didn't_ have. Thus an emergency call to her best friend.

Belle finally managed to grab her keys, but as she moved up the three steps to the door, she heard an explosive sneeze coming up from where Angelo used to live. It was followed by the appearance of a man mopping his face with a large red polka dot handkerchief. "Miss, are you a resident?" the man asked her.

"Ruby, let me call you back," she said, as she hung up on her probably confused friend. "Yes, I am," Belle told him. "You are..."

"Tom Clark, new super," he said, starting to offer her his hand before another explosive sneeze shook him. "Sorry, allergies. Anyway, as I was about to say, you should know that there is a locksmith coming in about a half an hour to install a new security lock, one that's not been messed with." He looked at the door as if it had offended him. "I was just going to put up a sign. He's also going to be checking the apartment ....achoo."

"Bless you," Belle said. "But why the apartments?"

"Well Miss..."

"French, 2D," she supplied.

"Pleased to meet you. Anyway, the law requires the locks on the doors to, at the very least, be rekeyed between tenants, and I can't find a single locksmiths bill to show it's been done. Not that the records are in any kind of shape, but it's better to be safe, you know? Especially after the trouble last night," he said darkly. Clearly he had some firm ideas about Angelo and his performance of his job.

"Oh. Well, I'm going to be gone all day. What do I do to..." She paused to let the poor man get through his next round of sneezes.

"It's okay, a lot of people are going to be gone. Here." He handed her a card. On it was printed 'Tom Clark, building maintenance engineer' and two phone numbers, one marked 24/7. "Knock on my door. If I'm not in, just call the cell. I'll be around. I'm going to be pretty busy, so probably not in my apartment. I've got a pile of maintenance requests going back months and no clue which have been done, not to mention I'm supposed to review the inspector's report with him at 2:00. So we can get everything here cleared up and up to code."

"Thank you," she said, with genuine warmth. It was kind of a shock after two years of Angelo to have someone who looked like he actually cared, and took his job seriously. Pity about the poor man's allergies.

"My job, Miss," he said with a nod as she let herself in. She noticed that the moment she went through, he started fixing a sign to where the call box was, though it had never worked.

Belle hurried up the stairs and let herself into her apartment in a rush, redialing Ruby, while she ran to the bedroom to find clean clothes. "Sorry, new super. Wanted to tell me we were getting new locks."

"Good.  Hopefully he's not a creep like the other guy. Now, lets get on to the important stuff. So you are going away with your hot older boyfriend..."

"He's not my boyfriend," Belle protested, digging out clean underwear and a bra. At least she had gotten a bath. Actually Robert had a wonderful bathtub. She'd almost fallen asleep in it. But Belle had other things to worry about now as she adjusted the phone so she could undress.

"Whatever you want to call it, you want to be ready. Where are you going? B and B, romantic five star hotel..."

"His cabin upstate, and I'm really short on time today, you know that. I've got class, work, and then I have to leave early and come all the way back here to get dressed for tonight."

"Got it, and you seriously have _no_ sexy lingerie?" her best friend asked.

"I've no lingerie full stop. I don't think tank tops and assorted flannel bottoms with cute animals set the right tone, do you? The only thing even close that I've ever had was that rubbish Gaston gave me as his idea of a romantic gesture." Belle shivered as she grabbed a long sleeved tee shirt out of the closet and slipped it on, transferring the phone so that she didn't have to stop.

"That cheap Fredrick's knock off crap that I thought was meant as a gag gift? Yeah, it made a hell of a stink when we lit it in the barbeque. Thought the RA was going to bust us for polluting the air or something. "

"If she hadn't met him, she probably would have. The question is, can you help?" Belle had finished changing clothes and rushed into the living room, phone still firmly attached to her ear.

"You want me to find something for you, right?"

"Please. You know my sizes and what I like," Belle said. _And you know a lot more about sexy lingerie than I do,_ she thought. "I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate. I'll pay you back, just please. Something, anything, not overly...you know what I need, and not too expensive." Belle said, as she made sure that all her books were in her bag, and that she hadn't left anything.

"Something elegant in your size, got it. Don't worry about the money. Remember that fashion show I filled in for at the last minute when one of the models broke her ankle? It was for IC London.  An old friend of mine is the regional manager for New York and she owes me big for that."

By the time she hung up, she was already out of her apartment and locking up behind her. As she hurried down the stairs, she passed Tom Clark in the entry. He nodded in passing, busy affixing a box to the wall marked 'Maintenance Requests'. It looked like things were getting better, maybe they would even have heat on a regular basis but for now she had other things to worry about. Her timing seemed to be perfect. Dove pulled up outside and she jumped in the back of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, here you go, two posts in two days, but I just needed to get this out of the way and tie a few things up before we can get on. Enjoy, read, review, all that sort of thing. 
> 
>  
> 
> Notes--
> 
> Alternate side means alternate side parking. Most neighbourhoods in New York have on street parking. However with on street parking comes the need to clear a side of the street for street cleaning. Thus, if you have a car, several mornings a week you need to either, a) leave for work before, or b) go out and move your car. Since there are obviously too many cars to park on one side, this leads to double parking, or circling the block waiting for someone to leave. 
> 
> IC London is a real shop, though not in New York, but it is a high end lingerie shop and besides I love the name.


	38. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Belle prepare for their weekend away.

 

 

Robert Gold leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face. Belle had left him early this morning after securing his agreement to let her cook in exchange for his hospitality this weekend. Since he was an indifferent cook himself, (he usually took high end takeaway with him, or allowed his son and daughter in law to cook when they joined him) and the nearest restaurant was a significant distance, he'd agreed. There was also the desire to have her to himself without interruption. She'd promised a shopping list later.

Beyond that, the new super had set in to work immediately. Tom Clark's description of the 'maintenance records', when he'd gotten into the former super's so called files, had consisted almost entirely of four lettered words. Gold was pleased. Even with the repairs, bringing it up to code, and some of the other upgrades, especially when he subtracted the ridiculous recurring maintenance, the violations, and that he had no doubt his agents could have the place fully rented in no time, he would be making money on the deal. Not a great deal, not at first, but in time. Oh, there was the outlay, but it was definitely going to pay for itself without gut renovating. Actually, he thought, he should set his researcher on the neighbourhood. There could be some other nice pieces worth having.

It was with no small sense of satisfaction, he set one of his subordinates to filing the eviction papers for the occupants of the apartment that the police had raided. Emma had called him this morning to convey the thanks of the drugs squad for his cooperation, and to tell him that they had successfully....well, they had done something important, she hadn't gone into detail, and he hadn't cared as long as they were no longer doing it in his property near to children, and Belle. He'd been right and wrong.  Right they they were dealing something serious, wrong about the other (they were apparently just doing that recreationally, and he made a note to have Clark keep an eye out, or rather a nose). Regardless, it was over. The new security lock was installed, and the rest of the work would be taking place as soon as it could be lined up. Robert had to admit, Walter had been right about his brother (for brother it was), he was conscientious and, at least as far as he could tell, hard working. Satisfied that the building was in good hands, he picked up the telephone. Now all he had to do was clear his calendar before the weekend.

 

Belle French rushed from the subway at a dead run. Her class had been cancelled due to the professor coming down ill. That had given her time to plan menus and grocery lists, (she'd said they could shop, but Robert had insisted that he would rather have her to himself). Work had been quiet though, which gave her time to be nervous about what Ruby would chose for her, what to pack, and double and triple checking that she hadn't left anything off her grocery list. Now, she just had to see the new super about keys, pack, and get ready for tonight. She hated this part, the part where she had time she wasn't expecting to second guess herself.

Before Belle could go too far along that path, she came to her door and stopped in shock. "Okay, move it out," she heard a voice from beyond where the dryer was coming toward the door, which had clearly been propped up to make way. It stopped before the steps, and reversed, revealing a shortish man with a smile, whistling softly. He nodded politely. "Give me a second," the second voice said, followed by several explosive sneezes, identifying the new super. "It was a really good machine, it's a shame to have kept it that way. If it had been taken care of...Oh, hello Miss French," he said as he came around.

"Mr. Clark," she said. "I see you are really getting stuck in."

"Yeah, management company wants to get those empty units ready to rent as soon as they can. Building is listed as having laundry facilities, they can't advertise with half the laundry room not working. Well, you could, plenty would do, but that's not how I operate, or them either. The other stuff will take a couple days to line up. This, I can do immediately. Pity, was a damn fine machine," he told her, finishing his speech with three more sneezes.

"Would be still.  It was really well made, could have gone another twenty years if it hadn't been rewired by a blind monkey with rickets," the other man said cheerfully, shaking his head at the waste.

"Sorry, Miss French, this is my brother, Fred, we call him Happy. He's giving me a hand."

"Pleased to meet you," he said. "I'm in appliances myself. He asked me to take a look at this thing, but I'm afraid even a doctor couldn't bring it back to life. I'm hoping I can salvage some parts though, maybe get the other one back up. Now Tom, you mind?"

"Sorry, let me help him get this out, then I'll get your keys for you," the super said. Belle watched as the two men maneuvered the large dryer down the steps and up into the back of a truck. Then the super came back and beckoned her to follow him as he closed the outside door and led her down to the basement, to the door next to the laundry room. She'd never been in there before. It was a small office, with two doors off it. There was a desk, clean, with papers neatly stacked, the usual letter trays (one labeled maintenance requests, another labeled completed, and a middle one that said pending), not to mention a pencil cup filled with pens, pencils, and what looked like three or four screwdrivers, and a note pad. There was also a white board, and a cork board. The cork board was still mostly untenanted, but the white board listed all the apartment numbers, with names beside some of them. Mr. Clark had pulled his keyring, but paused to sneeze again. She wondered at a man who took a job that he was clearly allergic to, but considering how well he was doing so far, Belle was hardly going to complain. He noticed her looking. "It's how I remember your names.  As I meet the tenant, I match them with their apartment."

"That seems a fine system," she told him. Angelo had called all the women "Mammi" or "Baby" depending, and all the men "Papi" or "Man". She watched the man unlock one of the doors, which led to a supply closet. Inside there was a peg board with each of the apartment numbers, and keys hanging from them. He selected the keys for her apartment and gave them over to her, after having her sign a receipt acknowledging that she had received them and that she understood that if she lost the security key, she would have to pay for a new one.

"I've got a spare set, but I won't use them without notice. We are expected to notify you twenty four hours in advance, unless there's an emergency," he explained.

"Thank you," Belle said. She attached the new keys to her keyring and said goodbye to the sneezing super before hurrying upstairs to her apartment. At least the time she had spent had taken some of her time to be nervous. The lock on her door turned easily and she let herself in, just as her cell phone rang. "Hey, Ruby."

"Belle, I've got you set up for this weekend. He won't be able to take his eyes off you, not that he can now, but..."

"Just tell me you didn't go overboard," Belle said with a sigh as she went to her bedroom and pulled out a small overnight bag from the back of her closet. She knew her best friend meant well, but sometimes Ruby could be a bit...flamboyant.

"No way. I showed Tink your picture and told her you were going away for your first romantic weekend with a new man."

"Tink?" Belle asked.

"Yeah, short for Tinkerbell. I think you met her before, she looks like a disney character, and she never sits still. She and I met when I was doing some modeling to pay for school. I think that was right before you and I roomed together. Anyway, don't worry, she's an expert."

"All right," Belle said cautiously. She just hoped tthat Ruby's friend was as good as she said. "So, what should I take? I mean, I've not really been upstate before. Is it like home?"

"Maine? Don't know, I guess. I'd expect it to be kind of cold though. I'd take some socks, and maybe an extra sweater." The two talked until Belle had her bag packed. Then she rang off. Now, she just had to dress for the preview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments. I know this is nothing but transition, but it ran longer than I thought and its been a bit hectic this week. Please, read, review, all those lovely things.
> 
> Note on Language--Mammi(pronounced kind of like Mommy but with a long a) and Pappi are used pretty commonly among the Dominican community in NYC. It's not particularly offensive (depending on how it's said) but can be a little familar.


	39. Convergance

Ruby was waiting for her in front of C building when she rushed up from the subway. The ride back had been the usual mix, a man taking an office chair home, keeping it from rolling away, a woman with a standing bass, three teenagers, one in hijab, discussing music, and two people putting labels on lipstick samples. In other words, a perfectly normal day on the subway. On the positive side, the trains heading uptown were not the cattle cars that the trains heading downtown were, and she was able to ride the whole way. "How do I look?" Belle asked as she hurried up to her friend.

"You look great.  I mean a little more professional than I would go for, but..."

"This _is_ a professional occasion, Ruby. I know it's mostly trotting things out for the donors but there will be other museum directors and curators there, and I need to look my best," she told her friend, gesturing for her to follow her. She waved her badge at the guard and indicated that Ruby was with her, as they headed through the door and up to where the lockers were. Belle was fairly sure that they had enough time to look over what her best friend brought. Then she would know if she needed to panic.

Upstairs, she opened her locker and took out her overnight bag. "All right." Belle turned to Ruby. "Show me what you've got."

"What, you don't trust me? Just throw it in the bag," she teased.

"I want to see," Belle told her, ignoring the question. "Come on, quickly, before someone else comes up here."

Ruby opened the shopping bag. The first thing she pulled out was a short nightie in blue, spaghetti straps and embroidery at the top and on the bottom in white. "We debated the long version, but face it, this is going to be longer on you than usual. Tripping over the hem is _not_ sexy."

"Wow, Ruby, that's...I don't know what to say."

"Say, 'thank you, Ruby, you're the best', There's a matching robe too," she told her friend as she reached into the bag again.

"Wow, this is silk!" Belle exclaimed as she took it out. "Tell me, your friend...it didn't fall off the back of a lorry did it?"

"No," Ruby told her, giving her a look of mock offense. "And it's the back of a truck. It's so cute when you do that. No, it's not what you think. It's sort of halfway between paying me back and a bribe. There's a half dozen pairs of underwear and two bras too."

"A bribe for what?" Belle asked, instantly on alert. Ruby had gotten her into one or two things and she had learned to latch on to the important bits of the sentence. "Explain."

"Okay, these are all leftovers, singles, hard to sell, used on the manikins, that kind of thing, mostly sitting around since the end of last season, except the robe. Even the gown, they're dropping the colour, and only one in one size doesn't help sales apparently. Anyway, besides that, one of their designers is working on a new line in petites. She's looking for a tall and a short, to do some promotional material. Tink thinks you'd be perfect, both of us, actually. It's easy work, good pay, just a day, maybe two."

"Modeling? Ruby, I don't know..." Belle stammered.

"It's not a big deal. We're not talking about magazines or even newspapers. Just their catalog and it's classy stuff like this," Ruby handed her the bag.

Belle had to admit, her friend had all the right connections, but then she'd been vaguely aware of Ruby's on again/off again modeling, something she only did to make a little extra. She had the twin advantages of height and a pretty flexible schedule, though she never wanted to do it full time. Plus, she could eat anything she wanted and it didn't make a difference, but dance was her love, so it was never serious. Belle had never gotten involved, though a few of their friends had. It was her height, or lack of it. It had never bothered her. But it seemed that this time she was the right person for the job. "I'll...think about it," she told Ruby cautiously. After all, a little extra money was never a bad thing.

"All I'm asking. When you get back, we can go talk to her. She was pretty excited when she saw your picture. Think Tink has a plan. But girl, put that stuff up for now. Don't you need to get downstairs?"

Belle looked at her watch and agreed, throwing the bag into her hold all. "Come on, we'll go the back way," she told Ruby, dropping everything back in the locker and slamming the door. "Not that anyone is ever really early except the families." The two women left the lockers, went down a flight of stairs, around, and into the corridor that connected the buildings over 27th Street. before descending to the behind the scenes area of the museum. They met Cheryl as they cut through the workroom.

"Hey Belle, found out about that drape that almost killed you. Turns out they needed to do a little paint touch up, didn't want to get it on anything, then forgot to take it down."

"Makes sense, wish they had told us."

"Or taken it away, or at least left a sign. How's your...friend?" the other woman fished.

"Robert's fine," Belle answered.

"He'll be here tonight," Ruby added, earning her a stern look from Belle. "What?  He will." Ruby tried to look innocent. It never worked, but she did it anyway.

"Is everything ready?" Belle asked, distracting them both from the dissection of her love life.

"Yeah, a couple of folks from the costume department were here earlier doing the last walk through. The one..."

"Hey Belle," Archie Quon called, sticking his head in. "One of the costumers is begging for you, something about an emergency..."

"That one," Cheryl finished. "There's a piece of the beading on Beauty's edging that's come loose and that's kind of..."

"Got it.  Anyone mention that we're only supposed to being doing design, not emergency repair?" But Belle had grabbed a couple of things off the table and hurried to help. She knew exactly why Anna had asked for her. The costume was an antique, and the beading had been on a piece of silk that had completely shattered and needed to be replaced. Anna had gotten Belle to help with restoring some of the spots, it being something she was particularly good at, but she hadn't had time to do the entire thing.

Cheryl offered to show Ruby where the drinks and snacks were before 'the piranha descend', while Belle found herself taking off her shoes and half crawling under the skirt to get to the damage, (which honestly only she and Anna would probably notice), but as they wanted the exhibit to show well.

By the time Belle had finsihed, she had just enough time to get her shoes back on, and double check her hair when the doors opened, and they all headed to reception. As expected, first were the parents, friends, and significant others of the students who had worked on the exhibit. Belle had brought Ruby with her, and Robert wasn't expected 'til later, but she was introduced to Cheryl's boyfriend, and Archie's parents. ('My son, he is so very creative,' Mrs. Quon said proudly, but his father seemed less thrilled.)

After the usual introductions, groups began wandering through the exhibit, usually led by whoever they were here with. She saw the director of the museum, the President of the College, and the University for that matter, a couple of local dignitaries arriving along with a man she recognized from the last one of these as the head of 'donor relations', a nice way of saying the man who tried to wrangle money out of people.

"Should have gotten yourself something to drink," Ruby said, noticing Belle's nervousness.

"Food and drink last," she whispered. "Keep it away from the potentially irreplaceable stuff." Instead they wandered a little. Ruby was willing to wait 'til Robert arrived for the guided tour she knew Belle was dying to give, but in the meanwhile, they stayed near the front of the exhibit answering the odd question, or rather Belle answered questions and Ruby nodded.

The man from the donor office and one of the directors were talking to a man with his back to them that looked somehow familiar to her when the director called her over (he probably only recognised her badge, she thought). It was only then that she realised who it was, and leaving Ruby behind, she went over.

"This is one of the students responsible for the exhibit. Miss...er..." she could see him trying to read her badge, but was rescued by the man himself.

"Miss French," the slightly accented voice greeted her. "It is nice to see you again. The director was just volunteering your services as guide." Kenneth Irons smiled at her.

"Mr. Irons, Layla, it's good to see you as well," she replied politely. She could almost hear the cash registers behind the eyes of the other two men.

"Layla was anxious to see the exhibit," he said with an indulgent shrug. "So would you?"

"I'd be glad..."

"Belle, I thought this was that show."  Another voice greeted them ignoring both the director and the crony. This one was much more welcome.

"Abbie," she turned to her friend. "And Mr. Midas, I didn't realise you were coming tonight." _There_ , she thought. _Now they won't question how I know these people or pressure me_.

"Irons," Abbie's father said, holding out a hand.

"Midas, wasn't expecting you here," Irons smiled slightly.

"Well, it looks like you all know each other," the director said, giving them his best politician's smile. "I am sure..."

"Oh, we are in good hands, I'm sure," Abbie's father told the man. "Is that Ruby Lucas over there? We should join her and get our first looks." Belle smiled gratefully and waved them before her towards where Ruby had seen the group and was even now coming to join them. "It's going to be a lively evening." She nodded, noticing the other man hanging back behind them, the man in black that she had seen before at the museum. She would have to ask Robert about him later.

They joined Ruby, the director having left, aware that he was not particularly wanted, but probably thinking that it was a good way of getting wallets open later. Belle made the introductions. "Looks like we are only missing one more to make this a real party," her friend said, none too subtly.

"Oh, who..."

"Sorry I'm late, traffic." Robert Gold had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all. I was hoping that this would actually finish the preview but it got away from me a bit. Now we have all the fun people assembled and who knows who will show up next. Please review and all that lovely stuff.


	40. Villians

 

 

Belle's first reaction was to throw her arms around him and claim a kiss. Fortunately her good sense took over. This was neither the time, nor the place. "Irons, Midas, didn't realise you were coming out tonight," he said, shaking hands with both me. "But perhaps I should not be. Miss...Abbie," he greeted her carefully. "Looking for new ideas?"

"I might be," she told him.

"And Layla, of course."

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Gold," the young lady said. She was a little formal, quiet, but she got that from her father.

"And of course, Miss Lucas."

"It's still Ruby," the woman with the red streaked hair said. "Now..."

"Now I believe that we might want to start the tour, before the Director and Mr. Swiss shake themselves out of their avaristic torpor and come for us," Irons told them, nodding toward where the man and his lackey were staring at the group with dollar signs in their eyes.

"Well in that case, let me start my tour. I was only involved in the design, but I am fairly sure I can answer most questions, or find the person who can. Let's start at the beginning." Belle gestured to them to precede her with her best professional smile.

Belle found herself enjoying the whole thing, actually. Abbie's father was friendly and Irons, while he gave off a certain amount of formal charm, had a wide range of knowledge. But it was Layla that was the true joy. "I wish I had brought my sketch book," she had admitted. "But my father said it wasn't the right place."

"Well, perhaps you could come back another day," Belle told her. "If I am not working, maybe I can even show you how we put it together." She didn't know why she was volunteering, but the girl was actually interested, which was more than could be said for most of the people there. The teenager immediately turned toward her father with a pleading look.

"Perhaps," the man said, but she was fairly sure he would give in. As hard as he looked, Belle suspected that his daughter was his soft spot, possibly his only one.

Ruby and Abbie had gotten sidetracked by Little Red Riding Hood, apparently they had gotten some ideas for the show, while she directed the rest into the area that had been the scene of last week's accident, the villians.

"Not a few people would say this is exactly where we belong," Irons commented.

"They'd not be wrong, at least about you and I," Robert agreed. "But Midas is in the wrong company. Me, I'm not certain I could carry the look." He eyed the imp in the leather pants and flowing shirt, one of the few male villains in the room, though the height was fairly close. The man seemed relaxed, comfortable with the other two, not like with Spencer, though she knew that they must know him as well. Belle wasn't certain what the connection between the three men. Mr. Midas, she was familiar with. He was Abbie's father, and genuinely a nice person, while Irons...he was something else. He was nice enough, polite, with impeccable manners, but like Robert, there was more there, some of the kind of darkness that she had seen just the other night, hiding just below the surface.

"I think most would put you elsewhere, " Midas said, with a merry smile at a joke that she was unaware of. Robert just nodded with a half smile. Abbie and Ruby caught up with them before more could be said, and they continued on.

They finally came out the far side of the exhibit where food and drinks were waiting. The three gentlemen headed for the bar, Layla with her father, while Abbie excused herself to the Ladies.

"Belle, wow. You may have something there with the older guy thing," Ruby told her, the minute it was just the two of them.

"Suddenly taken an interest in Abbie's father?" Belle teased.

"No. I mean, he's not bad, but not my type. But the other one, Irons, he looks like he could be some fun."

"Ruby!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice down.

"What? I'm just saying..."

"Have you noticed he has a daughter?" she asked. She didn't know whether to laugh or be exasperated.

"Have you noticed he's not wearing a ring?"

"On your own head be it, though you might ask Robert..." she started.

"Ask me what?" the man himself said, coming up behind her with a glass of wine.

"Ruby was curious about Mr. Irons." It was time to get a little payback. Unfortunately her friend wasn't the least bit embarrassed.

"Hey, I'm free and over twenty one," she told them with a shrug.

"Perhaps, Miss Lucas, sorry, Ruby. I can tell you that Kenneth Irons is unattached, he has been for a few years. However, there is one lady in his life who is uninclined to share." He nodded towards the girl standing with the other man.

"Noted. She's a pretty nice kid, quiet though." Ruby might have said more, but Abbie came and joined them, followed closely by the man himself and her father. Talk turned general as several people came up to talk to one, the other ,or all three of the men. Apparently they were known to many of the other donors, which shouldn't really surprise her. She'd known Robert was well off. Still, she was trying to fade into the background, when Cheryl came to drag her urgently away.

"Do you know who that is you are there hanging out with like it's any other day?" the woman demanded.

"Robert? You met him last week. Then there is Abbie. She manages the troupe I dance with and..."

"And Kenneth Irons, and Alex Midas?"

"Mr. Midas is Abbie's father, and..." Belle replied. She could see this going somewhere she didn't want to go.

"Midas and Irons are two of the most powerful men in New York," Cheryl told her. "They don't come to things like this, they _throw_ benefits for charity. And it looks like your friend, Robert, is pretty tight with them. He must be some kind of...What's his last name?"

"Cheryl, it's really...How do you even know these things?" Belle gave a question for a question.

"Brian. He's an intern at a big financial management firm. He's the one who noticed. He was asking what you where doing with them. I mean Irons..."

"Well now you know. I've got to get back."  She tried to get back to them, hoping that Cheryl would keep herself quiet, at least for tonight.

"Your hair is really pretty, Miss Lucas," Layla was saying as she rejoined them, Cheryl still trying to get her attention. The three gentlemen were talking to an overdressed woman and her husband.

"Thanks, you can call me Ruby," she told the teen. Belle could see that look on the girl's face, the one that was considering whether or not red would work on her. She was also almost a hundred percent sure that it would not go over well with her father, who was even now turning his attention to the side conversation. Fortunately sometimes Ruby was good with hints.

"I have to, my hair is such a boring colour. Not like yours. Actually, just between us, I tried to bleach it that colour once. I was sixteen, and my best friend helped me. I thought my grandmother was going to murder me. It came out kind of...orange streaked beige." Layla was giggling now, and seemed more interested in the story than questioning further. Behind her, Irons was smiling as well. "Seriously, I wanted to go right out and get another box of dye, and cover it over, but my friend had chickened out, she didn't want to make it worse. So, I go home with a knit cap on my head, and pray that I can convince one of my other friends to give me a hand."

"What happened?" the teen asked, clearly anxious to hear the rest of the story.

"My grandmother happened. She told me we didn't wear hats in the house regardless of the current style, and snatched it off my head. Then she told me she was going to make me live with it. Actually she only made me do it for two days, then Granny took me off to her hairdresser. When the woman stopped laughing, she fixed it and told me next to ask her before I let a friend at my hair."

"So, looks like the villains aren't just in the exhibit," a new voice addressed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a little more from my crazy day. Thanks for reading, please leave comments. The question is...who is calling them out?


	41. And real Villains

 

 

 

The woman that greeted them was tall, model thin, with fair hair almost a pale as Irons' (though Belle thought her's was more artifice than nature), and a smile that could cut glass. Her, Belle recognised, if only obliquely. Caroline 'Cruella' De Ville was an icon of the fashion world, as well known for her ability to predict (and define) fashion trends as for her truly nasty disposition. Far from being offended by her casting as a Disney villain, she seemed to revel in it, adding to the resemblance by adopting a signature black and while look. "Three of the leading lights of New York's financial world for a sneak preview here, really."

More interesting was the response of the three men. Irons' eyes immediately flicked towards his daughter, and then moved slightly in front of her, as if to protect her. Mr. Midas, who Belle had always seen as open and friendly, turned, his expression closing off like a a trap. Robert was still smiling, though he, like Irons, had shifted subtly, but blocking Belle. She wondered what he thought the woman would do, but then realised it was to keep the woman from noticing her, or at least in connection with him. The smile was the same he had welcomed Spencer with on Monday, the one that was all warning.

"You are so right, dearie," Robert said, taking it straight to her. "You'll find your alter ego near the end, beyond the Evil Queen, next to something...slimy." His voice was low enough not to be heard beyond the immediate group. Of course, in this crowd, almost everyone knew who she was and were watching, or backing away depending on their fear factor.. The fashion students that had come were melting away, having no desire to catch her eye, lest they have to deal with her in future. Most of the rest of the attendees were trying to come closer, looking for tidbits of gossip.

"Gold, still the Beast, some things haven't changed. But why so short with me?" she asked with a smile. Gold looked at her and raised an eyebrow with an amused smirk, as if to say 'that is what you are going with?'. "I ran into an old friend of yours recently. Someone who is looking forward to renewing your association," the woman said with an nasty smile. If Cruella was looking for a reaction, she was doomed to disappointment. Robert merely looked at her. "So the question is, what is it that brings the three of you out to this little soiree, I wonder." Her eyes raked over the three men in a predatory fashion that made Belle personally want to go and exert her claim, but she knew enough to know that Robert was being protective for a reason. The woman wielded a lot of power in New York, and while she was in in fashion, not the museum world, still, she was a bad person to be on the wrong side of.

Ruby had also taken an instant dislike to the woman and was subtly urging Layla away. "I would ask the same of you," Irons drawled, his almost imperceptible accent thickening, the only sign that he was more than mildly interested. "This isn't really your...crowd. No one here for you to torture, no poor interns to terrorize..."

'Oh, come now. Like you, I can always find a new play toy. Alex, dear. you'll ruin your reputation being seen around these two," she addressed the third man. Mr. Midas had, thus far, been completely silent, but Abbie wasn't looking terribly happy. There was a lot more to the story, and Belle knew it.

"Oh, I think my reputation is safe enough. Caroline, what did you want? Because if you are just here to exchange pleasantries, I'm more than willing to consider them exchanged so that we can all get back to our evening. But we both know that you don't do anything without a reason." It was the first time Belle had ever seem Mr. Midas as anything but the rather nice, friendly father of Abbie. The man who came to their shows and had a smile for everyone.

Before Belle could get anymore upset or confused, Layla tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, Miss, you said you would show me where the ladies is," she asked softly. Before the attention could shift to them, Belle nodded and played along.

"This way, Miss Irons." Formal, just another student doing her part, that was the way to go. She could get Robert to explain later. Ruby slipped away with them, but Abbie stayed. For herself, Belle didn't want to see anymore.

Once they had gotten around the corner to the bathroom, Layla turned to her. "Thank you. I just really wanted to get away. The only advantage to being short for my age, is people like her assume I'm younger, when they notice me at all. I don't like her very much." As she was saying that, the dark haired man with the beard came around the corner as well, but Layla turned to him. "I'm perfectly fine, really," she said. The man nodded once and then slipped away again. "Security," the young woman said with a shrug. "My father is a little paranoid about me," Layla whispered conspiratorially. They all laughed.

"Wonder what that b...er witch's problem is?" Ruby asked, trying to watch her language. Layla gave her a look that she surely inherited from her father but the woman just shrugged.

"I don't know, but I think we'll give them a few minutes to take care of her," Belle told them. They all agreed and moved further away from the reception.

"Belle, I need you," a young woman came barreling around the corner, practically at a run. It was Anna. "I saw you come this way. They just shut down the exhibit for the night but..."

"Not the edging again?" she asked in frustration.

"No, someone grabbed Charming's cloak and the fur gave way and you are the best and..."

"And I'm small enough to get in and hand stitch it without disarranging anything," she finished with a half grin. "You know this is not..."

"I know, but please? The exhibit's closed now, the director is busy schmoozing and almost everyone else has bailed. I promise I will owe you, big."

"This is the last time" Belle warned, rolling her eyes. "Ruby, would you..."

"Can I come and watch?" Layla asked. "I won't get in the way, I promise."

Belle thought about it for a moment. She didn't want to send her back to her father, not when they didn't know if the bitch was still there.

"I'll go tell them where you've gone," Ruby said. And check to see that the coast is clear didn't need to be added.

"Come on then. But remember not to touch. Not that I expect you to be that careless, but I have to say it," she told Layla, leading the way towards the work room.

With Layla's assistance, (and she genuinely did help), Belle had Charming's cloak mended quickly while answering her questions. By the time they returned to the buffet, Ms. De Ville had moved on, presumably to torment someone who wouldn't fight back. Still, Irons gathered his daughter and said their thanks and goodbyes.

Ruby, after accepting her share of the credit (and batting her eyes at Kenneth Irons, who didn't seem immune to her charms), they both left. The event was over, the patrons and those assigned to secure their donations were saying their goodbyes or writing last minute checks.

Abbie and her father were also making their farewells. Belle was about to say something to Ruby, but Abbie asked if she wanted to share a car downtown. "You text me the minute you get back," she said quietly. "I want to know what his idea of a hideaway in the woods is."

"Ruby!"

"Come on, you can bet it's not a log cabin with an outhouse." Before Belle could get more exasperated, Ruby and Abbie hurried to join Mr. Midas. Belle watched them leave, then hurried to the back elevator and rushed upstairs. Robert had excused himself to call Dove, and she needed to gather her things from her locker. Now that she had done her duty, the nervousness about tonight started to set in. This was a whole new step in their relationship. _Don't overthink_ , she reminded herself as she rushed to her locker. It took three tries to get her combination right, but finally she opened the locker and pulled out her things. After a couple of moments balancing everything, Belle hurried to the elevator. It was slow as usual but she didn't want to risk having an attack of klutz. Not tonight.

Downstairs Robert was waiting outside the door to walk her to 8th Avenue, were Dove had pulled the big black car up into a quasi legal parking space. Moments later, her things stowed in the trunk, she slid into the car and waited for Robert to join her. As soon as the door closed, he pulled her to him for a kiss as Dove got in and turned the car uptown in the usual stream of traffic. "Hey," he said, when he finally let her go.

"Hey," Belle replied, blushing just a little. It felt good to be able to do that. Not that she was reluctant about her association with him, but tonight had proved that it wasn't quite as simple as she had thought. Instead of continuing down that line of thought, she turned to the basket next to her on the seat. "What's this?"

"I took the liberty of having Dove pick us up something to eat. No one ever really eats at these things," he told her, gesturing for her to hand it over to him. A picnic in the back of a car seemed an interesting way of starting the weekend. "The groceries are in the boot. I am assured that he got everything you asked for, but are you certain you want to..."

"Robert, I enjoy cooking. It's not something I can do in my postage stamp kitchen. It will be fun. Can you tell me about this cabin of yours, or do I have to wait?"

"I think I'd rather let you see it," he said, opening the basket to forestall further questions, for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I promise I'm not stringing you along and answers will be had. However, I am packing for Dragon Con, so I might be a little slow on the updating, and of course, the convention is next week. I will try to get as much done as I can. Meanwhile, please read and review, it does keep me going, especially when its crazy.


	42. Explainations

They spent the most of the journey out of the city exploring the contents of the basket. "Not the most elegant picnic, or the one I would like to take you on, but it's a bit of a drive and I'd not want to wait 'til we got there, nor did I want to delay. It's selfish, but I want as much of your time as I may have. We should be able to relax."

"I'm sure I will," Belle said, packing things back into the basket. She wanted to discuss what happened, preferably before they got to where they were going. Like him, she wanted the weekend to be spent on them. "There was a man at the reception," she began. It seemed a good place to start. "Dark hair, beard, he was following Layla. She said he was security?"

Robert smiled a little. "Ian Nottingham, and believe me, if you saw him, it was because he wanted to be seen, or more probably didn't care if you did."

"Who is he, and why..."

"Interested in Irons? Should I be jealous?" Robert asked. Belle was almost certain he was teasing.

"No." she blurted probably more vehemently than was necessary. "He...he's not my type." Belle moved closer to Robert. He laughed and slipped an arm around her.

"Kenneth Irons is definitely a monster of a different sort."

"Why does he have security though. Why does he need it?"

"Ah, now that is a complicated subject. There have been one or two attempts on his life over the years, and of course he has Layla to worry about. Suffice it to say that he has made enemies."

"But..."

"Belle, it's best not to ask. Men like him, like me, we have our secrets, the dark things in our past. That is why I..." Belle kissed him. She wasn't about to start down that road again.

"So, these things are they anything to do with that little..." Belle wasn't certain what to call the interaction with Cruella.

"That, hardly. I'm afraid there is nothing secret about it, unfortunately. Would that it was otherwise." Robert seemed reluctant, but Belle decided that she needed to know.

"You and she?"

"No, never," he said definitively. After a moment Robert continued. "Cruella is known, in certain circles, for something other than her fashion sense and her nasty disposition. It goes back to her modeling days. She likes men with money, or power, or preferably, both."

"To marry?" she questioned. Not that she had the foggiest idea if the woman was married or not.

"Oh no, she doesn't want to keep them. She uses them for a while, toys with them, drops them when she's done. Cruella is a lot of things, none of them pleasant. She's also not terribly picky about their marital status, nor is she subtle. It's a game for her, and more than one high profile divorce has named her," Robert explained.

"So you..."

"Turned her down flat," he confirmed. "It was not long after...Belle, I want you to..."

"You don't have to tell me," she interrupted.

"And if she'd not shown up tonight, I probably wouldn't, not yet. It's too soon. But since she is looking for something and while she might not be aware of our association, still. You know that I was involved with Regina's mother? I was divorced, and Cora was separated and planning to be, or so she told me. Thought whether or not it was true, I've no idea. At the time, I believed it. Some time after that, after Regina had married and Cora's husband died, she made a rather public attempt to take up where we left off, but I no longer had any interest. I had learned my lesson. Not long after that, Cruella made a none too subtle suggestion. I've no idea whether she was actually interested in me, or just looking to get at Cora, who she despised. She doesn't take rejection well, though."

"And Irons and Midas?" she asked, settling closer, letting him know without words that she didn't care about his past.

"Irons and I have been allies and adversaries over the years, but we understand each other. I know some of his secrets, he knows some of mine, and we each know that the other knows. Alex, he's less ruthless, and certainly less hated, but the three of us have been known to work together on things. Known associates, as Emma would say. I'm not certain, but I would be willing to bet that she went after Alex with similar results. He genuinely loved Abbie's mother, Katherine. I don't think he has particularly gotten over her death. Irons is a different matter entirely."

"They were?" At that Robert smiled. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smile.

"Oh no. You see, Cruella likes to be in charge. She makes the first move, she decides when it's over. Kenneth Irons didn't play. If there is one thing she hates more than rejection, it's being told that she is surplus to requirements. That was very public and very ugly. Now, he has a young daughter, and while this was all before her parent's marriage, suffice it to say he has no desire to see if aired before Layla. Now, I think we have sufficiently covered the unpleasant subjects, perhaps..." he leaned down and kissed her, and Belle decided she knew as much (and probably more) than she needed to. It was time for them.

After a while, between the slow kisses, his warm body, and the smooth motion of the big car, she started to doze off. "Rest, sweetheart," he whispered, as she drifted to sleep.

The turn off the expressway woke Belle. She was a little disoriented, but it only took a moment, and Robert's soft kiss to wake her up fully. "We are almost there," he told her. "I had the cleaners in, and told them to put on the lights so we should be able to see it."

They drove in silence for a few more moments. Belle was still trying to wake up a little more. Then the car turned off onto what looked like a private road. In front of them, nestled on a rise with the forest behind it, the house was lit up like a jewel in the night. Belle gasped. Ruby had been right. "That is your definition of a cabin?" she said incredulously.

 

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/14787329@N08/21020102295/in/dateposted-friend/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you for reading and all the lovely comments. Please keep it up.
> 
>  
> 
> Now about the house. Yes, it is a real house, really in Upstate New York. I was actually looking at houses for something else, to rent for Rhinebeck (New York Sheep and Wool Festival for the not fiberly inclined), and thought I would do some research while I was at it. When I saw the pink Victorian in the right location, on a big plot of land, I just had to do it. Throw rotten fruit at me later.


	43. The Cabin

 

 

Robert shrugged. "I was looking for a place in the country, when I found this. They were looking to turn it into some kind of resort, or development, and that would have been a waste. Besides, it's big enough for Bae and Emma to bring Henry up. He should be able to get out of the city. Now, shall we?"

They had pulled into the drive and Dove stopped the car near the walkway. Then he got out and opened the door. Robert slide out carefully and offered her his hand. She was still gazing in awe at the house. The lights were shining in bright colours from stained glass panels and the transom over the door, the porch wrapped around and had white wicker furniture with pillows that must have been just put out, because surely they were not always there. Belle allowed herself to be led up the steps, looking around as Robert fitted the key and opened the door. The door opened into a front hall where a grand wooden staircase descended from the upper floor, with an oriental runner down the center. The floor was wood, covered in another oriental rug and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. The entire thing looked like it had been taken straight out of time. "It's...amazing," she told him.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it. Bae accuses me of using it to store the excesses of my collection. Of course the entire second floor is set up for them. The bedrooms are on the first floor, along with two of the bathrooms. That leaves this floor."

"I think it is wonderful, regardless."

"Yes, and the acreage guarantees privacy. Now, let me show you around," he told her. "Dove will see to the baggage." As if to illustrate what he was saying, the quiet man came through the door carrying bags of groceries.

"What about Dove?" Belle asked when he had gone into the back of the house. "Surely the poor man is not driving back." Robert smiled at her concideration.

"Not at all, sweetheart. He has his own place in the back, over the garage. There is also a caretaker's cottage out beyond the gardens and down the path into the forest. A young couple lives there, they keep an eye on the place year round, and she tends the cleaning when I need. I had some trouble with trespassers in the woods some years back and they were looking for a place. She's a teacher at the school in town, and he's a writer, so the arrangements suits up both. I doubt we will see them, they rarely come down when I am here. Now, about that tour..." He gestured he before him.

Belle had a hard time taking it all in. The house was a victorian masterpiece and he had kept it, or had it redone to reflect that. She was almost certain that he had decorated it himself. All the modern upgrades had been carefully hidden. There was a morning room, parlour, formal dining room, breakfast room, kitchen and library, the last looking like it was well lived in.

"Would you like a drink, or would you prefer to see the next floor? You may have any room you like, of course. There are..."

"What about yours?" Belle asked, moving closer to him. Robert pulled her into his arms for a kiss. He would be the worst of liars if he said he didn't want exactly that, however, they had both had a long day, and he didn't want to disappoint her.

"I would love nothing more, but you are tired, and I'm not going to pressure you into..."

"Don't you think I am the best judge of that?" Belle asked him. "If nothing else, I want to sleep beside you. Why don't we start there. We can go upstairs and..." Before she could get any further, the sound of a throat clearing turned them both around.

"Sir, where shall I put the lady's bags?" Dove asked, his voice soft as always.

"Take them to Mr. Gold's room," Belle said, hoping she was not being too bold. _Do the brave thing,_ she reminded herself.

Gold smiled at her. "Yes, as she says. Thank you, Dove. When you've done that, you can leave us. We will be fine."

"As you wish," he replied. Belle wasn't entirely certain, but she thought there was a smile on his usually bland face.

"Now sweetheart, about that drink," he asked, stepping away from her. There were several decanters sparkling on the side table. Belle dropped down onto a comfortable looking couch and watched him. "What will you have? I have scotch, brandy..."

"I've never really had scotch. I'm not much of a drinker," Belle admitted.

"Then I will be careful. Wouldn't want you thinking I was trying to take advantage of you," he teased pouring a couple of crystal glasses.

"You never," Belle told him, leaning back. "No one would ever think that of you."

"Oh, you would be surprised, my Belle, what people think me capable of." He brought the glasses over and sank down next to her. "And now I truly have managed to lure you away, convincing you that you were safe." He gave a wicked giggle.

"Ah, but I came willingly. What does that say?"

"That you are a very brave young woman?"

"Or maybe that I see through all this beast nonsense," she whispered, leaning over to kiss him.

 _If only it were so_ , he thought. But for now, he would hold on to the dream. He'd never been good with happiness or trust, it just wasn't in his nature. But Robert wanted it, wanted this to be true, desperately. Perhaps with Belle there was a chance, even if it was only a slim chance. They sat close together, enjoying the warmth of each other's company. Belle took her first sip from her glass. "Wow," she said, breathing sharply.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Bad?"

"No. Strong," she told him, before trying again. "Nice though."

"It is. Much better than the stuff I drank when I was young. Once I could afford better, I promised I'd never touch the other again."

"Like what they put in the punch at uni," Belle agreed.

"Probably considerably worse," Robert told her. "There was a good bit of dodgy booze about my old neighbourhood. Belle I meant what I said to Spencer. I'm...well, I wasn't exactly born in..."

"Robert Gold, I don't care where you came from or what other people think of you, or of us for that matter. That is their problem. You could tell me you were born in a barn or rubbish tip. It doesn't matter. What matters is who you are now."

"I'll hold you to that," Robert responded. "Though you aren't far off about the rubbish tip."

"If you want to tell me, you will tell me. I'll leave it up to you. But if you want to talk, I am right here," she told him. Robert smiled, and slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. Perhaps this would work out after all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will apologise for this being short. The good news is I am back from Dragon Con. The bad news is, I only mostly avoided Con Crud. But I promise a nice long update next week when I stop coughing. Please, read, review and all that stuff. Also for those who were waiting for my to add onto my historical from the RumBelle showdown 'Things found in the dark', well, I couldn't help myself, so I started it, so please check it out.


	44. Disruption

 

 

Robert Gold woke from sleep well rested and more content that he could remember being. The reason for that contentment was currently snuggled against his back, one arm draped over him, one slender leg wrapped around his leg. He turned to look at her. Light was filtering through the lace curtains, so it was some time after sunrise, but he was far too comfortable to care. Belle, beautiful Belle.

Last night after their drink, he'd shown her the first floor, where she had reiterated her determination that one bedroom would be perfectly fine. Robert had directed her to the bathroom, with its large claw footed tub (a find he had been particularly proud of when he'd been restoring the house), before returning to his room.

For Gold, there was no unpacking. He kept a supply of what (for him) were casual clothes, so that he needn't bother. Unfortunately that gave him plenty of time for returning nerves. Not that Belle had been anything but receptive, more than, to his advances. Still, this was a huge step forward. Into what, he didn't know. Tomorrow, he reminded himself. They were both tired and he wanted everything to be perfect. Of course she had come out of the bathroom in a blue silk robe that had almost robbed him of all his good intentions. Indeed, he had given her a kiss and gone (fled) to the bathroom himself, for, if not a cold shower, then certainly not a hot one.

By the time he had returned, Belle had settled into the bed and fallen asleep, but when Robert had laid down, trying to keep to his own space, she had snuffled sleepily and cuddled close. That had made falling asleep just a little more difficult, especially when the thin strap of the gown that clearly matched the robe, slipped down one shoulder.

Those thoughts weren't necessarily any better for him in the early morning light, and besides, he needed the bathroom. Carefully, he slipped from her grip, smiling at her sleepy protest at the loss. When Robert returned to the bedroom, Belle was sitting up slightly, looking around. "Morning, Sweetheart," he said with a half smile. God she was beautiful, even still disheveled from sleep.

"Ummmmm," she responded. "Woke without you."

"I'm here now," he told her, discarding his dressing gown and slipping back into the bed next to her, gathering her close. "Better?"

"Much." She snuggled in close, her face resting against his shoulder. "Very comfortable, but I suppose I should get up and make breakfast."

"There's no hurry," he told her.

 

When they finally arose, both flushed from a rather heated morning wake up, Belle made herself at home in the kitchen, while Gold watched. Watching Belle could become a habit, he decided, seeing her flit about the kitchen. _Too soon,_ the cynical part of him reminded. Regardless, they were here, now, and he decided he'd make the best of it.

Robert suggested breakfast on the porch, overlooking the back garden. The porch was a true wraparound, and the back was wide enough for a table and chairs. "The garden isn't much at this time of year," he told her.

"It's beautiful," she told him. The air was fall crisp, and just chilly enough that they had both put on sweaters. "I think this is the first time I've seen you out of a suit, well, besides last night." She blushed just a little.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Not at all," she told him, looking his attire over. He was wearing a pair of dockers, probably as close as he got to blue jeans, and a slightly too casual for a tie button down shirt. The sweater he wore was a green that brought out the deep chocolate of his eyes. Not for the first time, Belle was struck by exactly how attracted she was to this man. It was just a little bit crazy. "It suits you. I like seeing you relax."

"One of the reasons I bought this place. In the city, I have an...image to uphold. Here..." He shrugged.

"You don't need to be anyone but yourself with me," she said, reaching to take his hand.

 

Unfortunately their quiet morning was not destined to last. As Belle was clearing the table, Robert's cell phone rang. He cursed roundly in Gaelic, the only words he actually knew in the language, useful for when his son had been little and now his son, as his father had done, when he was bothering to pretend to be a father, usually to get something. Robert pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. He wished he could have left it behind, but was too afraid that something would happen to Bae. _Jefferson_ , the display read. "I need to take this," he said, regretfully.  Belle nodded and busied herself with clearing the table while he went inside to the library, closing the door behind him.

"This had better be bloody important," he growled, though he knew the man well enough to know that he wouldn't call for just anything.

"Well, someone woke on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I would have thought that you being alone in the country with your beautiful companion, you would be in a better mood."

"Tell me you didn't have us followed all the way out here," Gold said.

"No. The operative followed you as far as the GW. At that point, I knew where you were going. Her tail lost you when you headed uptown. He didn't bring a car. Besides, I have no doubt you are perfectly safe up there, especially with the estimable Dove lurking around in the background. How is he?" Jefferson was the absolute best at what he did, unfortunately he knew it, and it gave him a certain leeway. Robert had actually hired Dove originally on Jefferson's recommendation, when there had been a minor contract issue with some people who didn't like being bested.

"Fine. Now what is it you wanted? As you say, I have a beautiful young woman to get back to," he said tightly.

"All right, keep your shirt on, assuming you are wearing one with..."

"Jefferson..." he warned.

"So, unsurprisingly, I heard about your evening. No one who knew you and the connection would have been surprised that you and Midas were there, but Irons, that was unexpected. The same is true for Cruella. The only charitable enterprise she is interested in is her own pockets, and as for supporting a small museum, not unless it's going to get her on the front page."

"All true, but I am waiting for the relevance. I agree that it was odd, but I have no interest or desire in reviewing the woman's personal shortcomings, now or ever."

"So my question is, how did she know where you were, and why would someone who likes nothing better than the limelight for her little scenes waste one on such a small audience."

"Good questions. I had assumed she got a look at the guest list. Kenneth's name was on it, no problem for him to get an invite. Vorschlag's financial support of various museums is no secret. If he'd let them, there would be plaques all over the city. The same is true of Alex," he mused, more to himself than the other man.

"Yes, but you _weren't_ on the guest list. You came at Belle's invitation," the Hatter reminded him.

"So she was taking a shot at Kenneth, not the first time," he said, unconcerned.

"No, its's not, but I have every reason to believe it was you she was interested in seeing. That means someone told her you were there."

"I don't know why, there has never been anything between..." Robert said, distracted.

Jefferson cut him off. "You know she is interested in expanding, launching a new line?"

"Fashion is hardly my business," the Scot told him, unconcerned

"Maybe you should consider paying more attention. I did a little digging on my own last night. I thought it was a little odd, especially out of the blue like that. I mean, it didn't make a lot of sense. Turns out she's a little strapped for cash, so she has a new business partner. I'll give you a hint. She just got back from Greece."

"Cora." The word dropped like ice. He couldn't help but remember what she had said last night to him. An 'old friend' indeed.

"You were right.  The Red Queen is about to make her reappearance, this time as part owner of 'De Ville's Delights'. They are billing it as a 'wicked alternative in lingerie'. Last night was a warning shot.  They were looking to wrong foot you from the beginning."

"Damn. Keep digging," Gold ordered. Cora back in New York was the last thing he wanted, especially now when things with Belle were going so well. The question is, what did she hope to accomplish? He knew Cora well, she never did anything unless there was something in it for her, money, power, prestige. It had been what had drawn her to him all those years ago, though at the time he had thought it was love. He almost laughed. What he had with Cora was nothing, a pale, shoddy imitation of what he was already starting to feel for Belle.

"No need to worry on that score," Jefferson said, dragging him from his thoughts. "Like you, I want to know what Cora is planning. After that, what is your next move? Are you going to warn Regina?" he asked.

"I don't know. What I do know is that we need to be prepared. She probably won't come back until the spring. I want to be ready to welcome her appropriately."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry it has been so long since I've updated but all kinds of things got in the way. Now, I promise after a little bit of plotting, the next post will be full of all kinds of fluff and other fun stuff, so please hold on the torches and pitchforks. Please remember to review, it helps me keep at it.


	45. Peace

 

 

"Is everything okay?" Belle asked when he came out of the library. She was just finishing the last of the breakfast dishes, and stacking them on the drainboard. It was homey and domestic and appealed to him in way that surprised him.

"All fine. It was just a little business that needed taking care of, approval, and all that. Nothing that will interfere with the rest of our weekend," he promised pulling her in for a kiss. It felt good just to be able to reach out and touch her, and know that she welcomed him.

"Good," Belle told him. "So what..."

"I thought we would start with a walk. It's not too cold, if you would like." Belle smiled at him.

Once they had both slipped on light jackets, Robert led her out the back door. The fall garden was in its last bloom, the flower boxes on the porch were still done in gold and bronze chrysanthemums and everywhere, autumn was at its height. They went through the garden and Robert pointed out the path that led to the caretaker''s cottage and another that led to the garage. "It was a carriage house once, I imagine. But it has a convenient apartment for Dove," Robert told her.

"Does Dove have a family, or...I mean I feel a bit bad for him, just getting uprooted for the weekend so..." Belle trailed off, not certain exactly what it was that she was, or wanted, to say, but Robert just smiled.

"No, we are not taking him away from a family or anything else. He's...a bit of a solitary sort, like I am."

"Oh, you've not seemed terribly solitary to me," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder as they paused at the top of the garden to look back at the house.

"Or perhaps it's because of you that I'm not," he replied, waving her forward. The path, which was clearly maintained, as it was relatively smooth and free of sticks and other debris, led them through a forest of red, gold and orange, until it let them out on a beautiful view. The river ran along a rocky shore, across a small expanse of grass just below where the path let them out.

"It's beautiful," Belle exclaimed.

"I think so," he told her, but he was actually looking at her. Then he turned back to the river. "Originally, I was looking for a house on the water, the river or one of the lakes. But then I saw the house and I just couldn't resist. There is a good bit of acreage that keeps the neighbours at a distance."

"I'm glad you didn't. It suits you."

"Trying to say something about my age, my dear?" he asked. Belle knew that he was teasing, but at the same time, it was a concern he had, one that she wasn't quite ready to let him joke about.

"Not at all.  Trying to say something about your excellent taste. How long have you had it? Did you do the renovations yourself?"

Robert actually enjoyed talking about the house. The renovation and furnishing had been a project that had occupied a large chunk of his time just after Bae and Emma had moved out. Henry had still been a baby, and the business was going well enough that there was very little for him to do, but he didn't particularly want to talk about that. Instead he told Belle about some of the work. "Marco, you met him. He did all the woodwork in the entry, and supervised the restoration of the window and door frames. Even several years ago, I thought him a little old for long periods on a ladder."

"The results are fantastic," Belle told him. They returned to the house while he told her of some of the particularly spectacular finds.

 

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur of companionship and conversation. It had been a long time since Robert had met a woman who he enjoyed talking to so much. They had gone from discussing the house, to discussing some of the books in the library, arguing amiably about some authors, agreeing about others. In the end, she had pulled out a volume of poetry by Donne and they had spent an hour reading to one another on the settee in the library where he had got a fire going.

At the end of the day, they found themselves in the kitchen again. Robert watched as she went about fixing dinner. Thus far, despite Jefferson's interruption, everything else had been perfect, in fact he almost thought it was too perfect, but pushed that thought away. If all went to plan, soon he would have this beautiful woman with him in his bed, and that was more than enough to make him smile. Belle had been more than clear about what she wanted from this evening, and frankly, he had no interest in waiting any longer than she did.

"After dinner, would you...er...be interested in helping me with a spot of costuming?" Belle asked, turning her back on him to check the stove and hide her blush.

For his part, Robert had to take a moment to put his imagination and his libido back in the box before answering. It was hard not to stutter like a blushing boy. He could think of very few things he would enjoy more. "I would be delighted," Robert said finally, praying he wasn't leering like a dirty old man, which he was pretty certain he was. He had been dreaming of little else almost since he met her.

"Good, I'm a bit nervous. This will be my first proper performance. I want everything to be perfect."

"Well, if the other night was any indication, you will be fine," he reassured her.

"You might be a bit biased," she responded. "But as long as you are in the audience, I think it will be okay. I'll just pretend I am dancing for you." That didn't help his imagination at all.

 

Dinner turned out to be wonderful.  If anything could have made Belle even more attractive, it was not so much that she could cook, but that she wanted to, that she got genuine enjoyment from doing simple homey tasks with him. Milah had not only been an awful cook, but had never resisted an opportunity to make it clear exactly how burdensome she found...everything actually. She would rather go out of an evening, regardless of how he felt than have a nice meal in, even if he cooked it (he was hardly any great shakes in the kitchen, but he was better than his ex wife, which said less for his ability and more for her lack). Robert knew he shouldn't be comparing them. After all, it was far too early in their relationship to be considering anything serious, but he couldn't seem to help it. They were so very different. Robert could never see Belle doing the things... _Stop_ , he told himself. _Here you are, with a beautiful woman who wants to be here with you. Think about that instead. Think about what you will do when she's finished._ The mental images that came after that were probably also inappropriate, at least until a little later.

Belle was washing up, having told him she needed no help. Still he rose from the chair and walked up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist as she stood at the sink. "You could let me help with that, you know," he whispered against her hair.

"I could," she agreed. "But i thought, considering the space, it would be faster. I want..." He leaned close and nibbled at her ear. Whatever she had been about to say, fled as she let the dish slide out of her hand and into the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has been so very long and is short. I've been having a bit of a rough patch, which is also why this is very, very, teeth rottingly fluffy. Please enjoy and review. I am actually headed upstate myself tomorrow for the New York Sheep and Wool festival, so I am sure that I will gather inspiration while I am there.


	46. Costume

Robert's kisses distracted her from the last of the dishes and threatened to derail her plans entirely as Belle found all of her thoughts flying away. But after a few moments, she pulled herself reluctantly from his embrace. "Costume first," she whispered. "Afterward..."

"Assuming I survive the first part," he grumbled with a teasing smile. He had to admit, he had been curious ever since the other girl, Astrid? He thought that was her name. Ever since she had given it to Belle and she had not let him see it. Robert had never found himself overcurious before, not of the long bags containing the latest cocktail dress of Milah's nor of Cora's Haute Couture obsession. But this was different, and if it was half as distracting as what she had crawled into his bed wearing last night, he might very well need a cardiologist on call. His doctor had told him at his last physical that he was as healthy as a man half his age, but he hadn't been counting on Belle.

"Let me go up first," she said with a last kiss before pulling away and heading for the stairs. "Give me five minutes."

He smiled and made an exaggerated show of checking his watch. Then Robert went into the library and poured a drink. He needed it.

In a few minutes he was going to go up those stairs and see his beautiful girl in her costume and then...well, she had been clear about exactly where she _wanted_ tonight to end, and he was more than in agreement. He wanted her more than he had _any_ woman since his wife. Actually, while it might be hindsight, he wanted her a damn sight more than he'd wanted Milah.

So why was he worrying so much? _Because it's never felt so important before?_ But there was where the discomfort began. The reality was that Belle was close to half his age, and his confidence in his performance as a lover, while he hadn't worried about it that much recently, took a dive when he considered how much he cared for her already. Towards the end of their marriage, Milah had been quite explicit in enumerating his shortcomings as a husband and a lover. In the last months, he'd just stopped trying, avoiding her as much as he could, more often than not falling asleep next to Bae after a bedtime story and to miss the drunken accusations and ramblings. It also allowed him to be there to keep her away from their son when she came home the worse for drink. Not that she had ever cared about their son particularly, except as leverage against him to get more money after she and that wastrel sailor she'd hooked up with had run through her settlement. In fact, the only descent thing that Milah had ever done for Bae, apart from dying before he could be more disappointed in her, was to leave him everything when their boat had gone down. The investigator had said that they had both been drunk and more than one person had warned them not to go out. Milah's body had turned up. He'd never cared enough to bother finding if Jones' had.

"Robert, are you coming?" Belle called down from upstairs, pulling him out of his black thoughts. He downed the rest of his scotch, reminded himself that no one else had ever complained and that Belle was as far from the faithless Milah as it was possible for two women to be.

"Coming love," he called and made for the stairs.

He went into the bedroom but Belle was not there. Then he felt her behind him, "Close your eyes," she whispered.

"Belle," he started.

"Please?" she implored. It was almost impossible for him to resist when she used that tone of voice, a tendancy that he knew he should be more cautious of than he was. But he dutifully closed his eyes and allowed her to lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Well love, can I open them now?" he asked gently. He could hear her take a deep breath. It was at that moment that he realised that she was just as nervous as he was. It reassured him somewhat.

"Yes. Open them," she said.

Robert opened his eyes and his breath went out in a rush. Belle was a vision. It didn't matter that he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen on any day, but...

"You are the first one to see it," she said, blushing prettily. "Actually, you are the first man I've dated since I started dancing. But you've seen me perform before so it's not..." she trailed off and he realised he'd probably been starring with his mouth open like a stumbling schoolboy.

"Oh, Belle, you are even more beautiful than usual," he said, trying for articulate, though he would settle for not drooling on his shoes like a cartoon wolf. He had vaguely understood 'circus' but he had not been prepared for what she was wearing. There was a corset, blue with white and gold braid, somewhat reminiscent of a military or band jacket, matching blue skirt that came to barely mid thigh, with a sort of frill underneath that made it fluff out a bit like a tutu, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was called. Robert dragged himself away from a contemplation of her legs and their sparkling...well, they must be stockings, if she was meant to... He realised she was talking.

"Now, are you ready to help me?" she asked. His brain was still processing, especially the part that involved other people, other men seeing what he was seeing and more.

"What..." He swallowed, trying to relieve his suddenly dry mouth. "What is it you need me to do?" Robert asked. Inside, he was in turmoil. He had known all about her dancing, he wouldn't have ever met her otherwise, and on a conscious, rational level, it didn't bother him. He'd never considered himself a jealous man before. He'd not been jealous of Milah's lovers. If anything, he'd felt relief not having to put up with her diatribes at what she perceived as his inadequacies. But Belle, that was different. _Good thing we did this now, then,_ he told himself. _Gives you time to get a handle on yourself._

Belle moved directly in front of him, and then turned around, lifting her hair. "I'll have it up for the show, of course. But now...I need you to tighten my laces. I don't need them too terribly tight. I've not exactly got to worry..." She bit her lip, looking back over her shoulder. "I'm not..." She tried again, blushing.

"You are absolutely perfect," he told her, reassuring her. It made him feel a little better to know that he wasn't the only one that was nervous. "In fact, now that I have you in my clutches..." he told her, trying his best evil cackle, and rubbing his hands together like a panto villain. It did the trick, she laughed.

"I thought I came into your clutches voluntarily," she reminded him.

"Ah, but you see, all the best beasts convince you it's your idea. It's an ancient monster secret. I'll probably be drummed out of the Union for telling you," he teased.

"You should be, you are no monster. Now, start at the bottom and I'll guide you." Robert shifted on the bed and pulled her back a little to stand between her knees, so he could better reach her. Painful, but if it killed him, it would be a positively beautiful death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I am so sorry it has been so long since I've updated, but I got distracted by other stories. Note-If you followed the first tumblr link, I am sorry, I posted it to the wrong story, and it wouldn't make a damn bit of sense. Please leave a comment in the little box.


	47. Together

 

Four times. Four times he had laced Belle back into the corset and four times she had performed the move that got her out of it. It was wearing on Robert, who had never considered himself short of self control before, or not in years.

"That's much better," she said finally. "I'm glad I have you to help. Also, it keeps me from getting nervous. No matter what, I can just concentrate on having you there, and I know that I'll be fine."

That, more than anything she could possibly say sent the jealous monster back into its lonely cage. Let the others look, it was him that she was dancing for. Him, if he was fortunate and nothing came up next week, that was taking her home afterward. While it assuaged his jealousy, it did nothing to cool his ardor.

"Why don't you let me try," he said, rising from the bed to stand next to her. Belle smiled, and shivered pleasantly as she redid the quick release while he directed her to stand in front of the full length mirror.

"Like this?" He asked as he slipped his arms around her and pressed the edges together to slip the clasps open.

"Yes," she breathed softly. The first two hooks slid free and he continued down until they all released and the corset opened under his hands. The garment beneath was thin and sheer, showing the clearly the shape of her upper body beneath.

"I've been wantin' to do that," he whispered in her ear, his accent thickening. "You are so beautiful." He kissed her neck and reached down to unfasten the short skirt which slithered to the floor as he stepped back to allow enough space between them. Beneath that, he could see that the top was actually part of the petticoat. He slipped it down her shoulders and allowed it to join the skirt, leaving her to the waist, allowing his hungry gaze to take her all in, her young breasts firm and pale in the dim bedroom.

"I didn't bother with the..." She got no farther as he pulled her to him for a kiss. It was slow and perfect, and Belle could feel all her nerve endings coming alive with a message of desire. When he broke away, his chocolate eyes were dark with desire.

"Bed?" he suggested.

"Bed," she agreed, taking his hand and leading him toward it. Belle sat herself down on the bed to take off her shoes.

"Allow me," Robert said. The height of the old fashioned bed and her petite stature allowed him to raise her foot, unfasten the strap and slip off the blue heel. Belle smiled and offered him her other foot, blushing a little as she realised that she was sitting on the large bed in nothing but her knickers and stockings while he was still fully clothed.

"Don't you think you are over dressed?" she said as she reached for him.

"I'm nothing..." he said, but she was already pulling him close, pushing up the sweater, ' til she could get beneath it and start on the shirt buttons. She'd managed to banish those things to someplace beyond the bed, then tugged the white singlet to join them. But it was when she reached for his belt, he batted her hands away.

"Let me get the lights," he told her.

"Leave them," Belle said decisively. She'd learned enough about him in the last short while to guess that he was not entirely comfortable with his appearance, but she found him incredibly attractive, lean, spare, just the right size for her, and she was going to prove it to him.

"Love," he said, turning toward her. "I..." Before he'd got any further, she pulled him down to sit beside her.

"It doesn't matter," she told him. "I like looking at you." She kissed him gently. "Nothing is going to change that." Then she slipped off the edge and dropped down to her knees, pulling off his house shoes and socks. She could feel a lump of scar tissue as she did, but she ignored it, rising up to stand in front of him. "Now, we are closer to even," Belle told him with satisfaction. He returned her look, the look of desire that had started to fade was back with interest and before she could say something, he pulled her to him, pressing kisses to her bare stomach and then her breasts. She gasped as he lavished attention on the part of her body that she had always thought a bit inadequate.

"Beautiful," he whispered and tugged her down onto the bed. "I want you so very badly. I have since we met. You were beautiful and intelligent and I couldn't stop thinking about you," Robert said, laying her reverently against the pillows. "But I was certain you would not be interested. I didn't want...If this is a dream, I don't want to wake."

"This is no dream," she told him. "Unless we are both dreaming it." She pulled him down and nipped his ear and he welcomed the sharp sensation.

"Now, where was I?" he asked. This was happening and by God he was going to enjoy it while it was. "Ah yes," Robert shifted and lifted one stocking clad leg. He cradled it for a moment, then pressed a kiss to her ankle before sliding his hands up to the top. Carefully, so as not to tear them, he drew her stocking down her leg, pressing kisses to her thigh, then her knee and finally banishing it to whereever the rest of their clothes had ended up, before giving the second one the same treatment. Then he turned a wicked grin up to her. The french knickers were lovely, but he was entirely certain they would be much better off his lovely lady than on.

Belle smiled. She was already breathing harder, her body thrumming with excitement in a way that no one else had ever made her feel. She hadn't had a lot of experience, but neither of her other boyfriends had been anything like Robert. He had adjusted himself, probably to ease his leg and kissed her before reaching for her knickers and tugging them off gently.

He gazed at her naked form with a reverence she'd never experienced, but before she could react, he was kissing her. Slowly he kissed and nibbled his way down until he rested between her legs. "I want to taste you," he whispered hoarsely. Belle was a bit shocked and floating entirely on sensation, but she nodded. She' d not found her first boyfriend's attempts particularly earth shattering, but Robert, well, he was different. His eyes were dark and heavy with pleasure as he lowered his head. The first touch of his lips was a shock and then she found she couldn't think clearly at all, only feel, and it felt so very good.

She tried to touch him, tangling one hand in his long hair as he teased her, driving her towards her climax with a sure touch. Now that they were here, he was determined to ensure her pleasure. Belle cried out his name as his kisses tipped her over the edge and her world seemed to melt into a big ball of pleasure, released with a burst like a balloon let go.

Robert backed off, stroking her gently and moving to lay beside her, holding her as she came back to herself. "That was..." she started, but found words too much effort, especially with him in easy kissing distance. Instead she expressed herself with lips and tongue, trying to give back as much as she could. As she got her bearings, she realised that he was still wearing his trousers.

This time she was not going to take no for an answer. Belle grabbed the belt and unfastened it before getting the button and zip open. He didn't even protest this time, removing his trousers and boxer shorts before returning to press himself against her warm body. Now she was exploring, running her hands over his chest and back, kissing wherever she could reach.

"Belle, do you need..." he started to ask, remembering Ruby's repeated 'gifts'.

"No, all taken care of," she whispered. "Now..." She rolled back so that she was closer to the center of the bed and tugged him over to her. Robert followed, raising himself carefully over her, finding a position that was easy on his leg with the ease of experience.

He pressed against her. She was still warm and very wet and he adjusted himself until he could slide into her. Belle moaned softly, her leg slipped up around his hip on his good side, and arched up into him, welcoming him inside her. Robert found himself grimacing. It had been a while and she felt good. He didn't want to rush, not now, not their first time together, but he wasn't certain how long he was going to last. They moved together, almost as if they had been doing this forever, naturally. Time stopped having any meaning to him, and he lost himself in kisses and the joining of their bodies, until he felt her breathing change, sharpen. Belle was close, he could feel it, and he was running out of strength to hold back. He shifted, allowing the slightest change and felt her slide over the edge, just as his own orgasm hit. They panted and stuttered to a completely exhausted end, still wrapped firmly around one another.

"All well, love?" he asked, feeling tired, content and not entirely sure which limbs were his.

"Wonderful," she whispered sleepily, protesting just a bit as he withdrew from her before he fell asleep on her. "Should get my nightdress," she whispered around a yawn.

"Think you are fine like this for now. I'll keep you warm," he said, pulling her close to him, skin to skin, just as sleep overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise it's been a very long time since I updated, and I apologize. Life has been crazy, I have a lot of stories going, and frankly...well, I'm rubbish at smut. However, sometimes the story requires it, and it takes me a while to write it. Thank you for your patience, and please leave a comment in the little box.


	48. Home again

 

 

When Belle woke later, it was still dark. She could see from the clock that she had only been asleep for a couple of hours. It was comfortable in the big bed with Robert wrapped around her, unfortunately, nature was calling, insisting on her attention.

She extracted herself carefully form Robert's embrace, hoping not to wake him. However, when she returned, she found herself wide awake, her mind replaying the evening in full detail. Unfortunately, Robert looked so very comfortably asleep that she she didn't want to wake him.

Instead, she returned to the bathroom and settled herself into the claw footed tub for a deliciously hot bubble bath. She was lazing in the water, enjoying the heat that her apartment frequently lacked, when she heard her name.

"Belle? Belle, where are you?" Robert sounded a little startled and disoriented.

"Robert, I'm here," she called back. After a moment, she encouraged him to come and join her. The tub was certainly big enough to accommodate them both. It took some flirting and flattery, but she finally convinced him. When she had Robert curled with her in the bath, it was even better. Slowly, sensuously, they washed one another, peppering each other with kisses until kisses and caresses led to them making very slow love in the large tub and then cuddling together, unwilling, or possibly lacking the energy to emerge. Finally, with the bubbles almost gone and the water beginning to get chilly, Robert dragged her from the tub.

They dried one another with thick, fluffy towels, Belle careful not to react to his leg, save to be more gentle with it. Finally, clean and dry, they took themselves back to the bed and drifted back into a contented sleep.

 

Belle was, again, the first to wake as the morning light streaked in the window. It was a weak, fall light, but pleasant, especially as it allowed her to put her plan into action.

Robert Gold woke up to startling and delicious smells. He opened his eyes slowly, wondering if he was having some extremely pleasant dream or possibly a hallucination, when Belle came through the door with a tray. On it, a tea pot, cups, a plate piled high with sausages, crispy French toast, a pitcher of what must be syrup, and a bowl of cut fruit. She accepted his help in getting the tray down onto the surface. "Breakfast in bed," she announced, smiling at him. He swallowed twice. She was wearing his discarded shirt from the night before, probably not wanting to cook in her, admittedly spectacular, robe and gown. The sight was stirring up a hunger of quite a different sort, and he pulled her in for a kiss before, with more difficulty then he expected, putting his libido back into its cage so as not to disrespect the work she had put into their breakfast.

The morning passed almost too quickly as they ate (and fed each other) lounging in the bed. "When do we have to go back?" Belle asked almost regretfully.

"When do you want to go back?" he asked, stroking her hair. They were laying in the bed, her head pillowed on his shoulder. The breakfast tray had been banished to the dresser and they were finishing their tea with the contentment of a pair of well fed cats. Neither felt much like moving.

"I should be back this afternoon," she said sadly. "I have to get ready for the week. You?"

"Probably some reports to read, nothing too exciting. I have a business meeting Monday night. How about..."

"You will be coming to the dress rehearsal Wednesday, won't you? Please?" Belle asked, turning big eyes towards him.

"Of course I will and I'll be there for the performance. No fear of that. Why don't we have dinner before the rehearsal? Actually, if you don't mind a late meal, we could have dinner tomorrow night," he suggested. Truth was, he wanted to take her from here back to his home in the city and not let her go, but that was rushing things, he knew that. It didn't stop him wanting it though.

 

It was almost 7:00 when Belle got home. Neither of them had been in a hurry to leave the quiet and each other's company. They had packed slowly and reluctantly, took a final walk down to the river, and finally, when they had run out of excuses, gotten in the car to go home.

Dove had taken her keys and carried her things to her apartment for her, allowing them a private goodbye. Belle had invited him in. "I'm afraid I'll not be able to tear myself away if I do," he told her with sincere regret as they ran out of time. "Call me tomorrow?"

She agreed as he reluctantly released her hand and watched her go inside, closing the door behind her.

"It's all secure, Boss," Dove said as he started the car. He nodded distractedly. Of course it was. He'd already seen Tom Clark's report on the locks that went in on Friday, and Marco had repaired a broken latch on the window grate. In a small part of his mind, he noted that clearly Dove approved of Belle. It was good. It didn't make leaving her to go home to his empty house any easier though.

"Hey Belle," a familiar voice called as she turned towards the stairs.

"Hey David." The young man was carrying a laundry basket.

"Guess what? The laundry room is working and by that I mean two washers, two dryers, all the overhead lightbulbs replaced and the exhaust fan on."

"Wow," she said. It was impressive what the new super had gotten done in a short time and she said as much.

"You aren't kidding. All new security locks on all the outside doors and they are going to do the last of the inside ones Monday. They got to me, but I was the last one Friday, just got home as they were finishing. Doing it right. He said the locks were in sad shape. You missed the excitement too. You know that police raid? Well he had a couple of guys moving the stuff out of that apartment Friday afternoon, said that there is a clause in the lease about it. I'm just glad to have them gone. Those guys liked to play their music all night right over my head. Glad I have a lease too. Looks like this building is really getting a clean up. Hope the neighbourhood doesn't get too expensive," he said, accompanying her up the stairs. "Oh, you should have a thing in your mail box. Tom is setting up times to go through to see what needs done, says he can't make heads or tails of Angelo's record keeping system. I told him that was because the man never did anything except leer and the girls and make excuses."

"You mean what needs doing, like all the things we reported? Erika has been complaining about that leak for six months in her kitchen."

"No kidding right? Guy sneezes at everything, but he really gets stuff done. Well, I'll talk to you later, got to finish the laundry," he said at her door, turning to head up to his own floor.

"Knock when you finish? Maybe I can get mine done tonight," she told him.

"Sure thing."

Belle stepped into her apartment. Dove had carried her begs into the living room, which was actually warm. Heat working, laundry working, who knew, maybe getting ready for the week wouldn't be too bad. _Perhaps, if I'm busy enough, I won't miss Robert too badly,_ Belle told herself, but she didn't really believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a little follow up. Please enjoy. Glad to see people are still interested in this story. This chapter is dedicated to Wonkyfeint, for reasons. You know what to do.


	49. Back to Routine

 

 

"So, details, girlfriend. Dish," Ruby said as she slid into the seat opposite Belle at the Starbuck's on 7th Avenue. She looked up from her reading and tried not to sigh. There was no way at all she was going to get away without an interrogation, but it didn't make her any happier about it. Still, part of the motivation behind inviting her friend to join her was to get this over with and in private.

"The house is amazing and we had a lovely time, what more is there to say?" Belle asked sweetly. She never agreed to make it easy. Besides, she'd had a difficult time last night settling down despite her tiredness.

She'd followed David into the laundry room when he knocked to grab his washer as he finished it, managing to get it just ahead of her next door neighbour. Clearly everyone was excited for laundry facilities that actually worked. While they were discussing the improvements, Tom Clark and another many appeared, carrying the table that had been in a dark corner for folding, not that anyone ever used it. Between the bad lighting, the wobble and the suspicious looking Formica top, it was better to use one's sofa. However, that was before.

"Sorry, wanted to get that top sealed back down," the other man said, while the super went through his usual sneezes. But even with the up and down, after she had finished the laundry, she was still awake or at least not tired enough to sleep. She had been too distracted, thinking about Robert, wondering if he was having the same problem. Finally after cleaning the apartment, emptying and refilling her school bag, her practice bag, and cleaning out her purse, Belle had taken a hot shower and finally fallen asleep face down in an article about new techniques for getting spotting off of linen samplers. She wondered how Robert slept.

"Hello, Earth to Belle," Ruby said, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry, I didn't get to bed as early as I wanted," she told her friend.

"Oh, and why was that, and were you alone at the time? Come on, inquiring minds want to know."

"Yes, I was, and because I had to get ready for the week and so did he," Belle replied.

"Sure, and you didn't get to bed because of too much work and not at all because you were thinking about..."

"Didn't say that, did I?" Belle asked with a smile. "Here is your picture of the 'cabin'," she handed over her phone where she had snapped a picture of the house for just this occasion.

"Well fuck, that's not a cabin, it's a mansion," Ruby exclaimed.

"He was looking for a place, and they were going to turn it into an inn or a resort or something," Belle explained. "Besides, it means that Bae and Emma can bring Henry up. They've a whole floor. I think Robert feels like Henry should be able to get out of the city, he..."

"But enough about the family, how was the rest...You know, did you get a chance to test that theory about older men?" Her friend winked outrageously and Belle couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm not going to talk about _that_ ," she said.

"But there is a that to not talk about, am I right?" Ruby asked.

"Yes," Belle conceded, blushing 'til she matched the colour of the other girl's hair.

"That good, huh?"

"Better," Belle said, determined that it was going to be her last word on the subject.

 

Robert Gold left his office to join Midas and Irons for lunch. He'd gotten a call from Alex, presumably they knew something about Cruela. It was hard to think of her as Caroline, it was too innocuous a name for such a noxious person. Still, it was better to share information with two men he trusted, or at least trusted as much as he trusted anyone. He turned off his phone and entered. Irons was already seated, but of Midas there was no sign.

"Nice weekend?" The other man asked politely.

"Yes, and you?" Neither man was one for sharing confidences.

"Passably. Layla is truly impressed by what Miss French does." Ah, there it was, a question of Layla. He'd known the man long enough to know he didn't do idle curiosity.

"I believe that Belle offered to show her around. She is a woman of her word. I would be glad to ask." The other man nodded, as they let it drop. Alex Midas was coming to join them, which meant they could get on with it.

"So, I have some interesting news on our little encounter the other night," Alex said as he sat down. "I mean besides being her usual unpleasant self."

"Her new lingerie line or her new backer?" Gold asked.

"Well, the lingerie is why she's back in New York," Alex replied, clearly only having part of the picture. "New backer?" he asked.

"She's partnered with Cora Mills," Irons added, eyeing Gold carefully. "So it was probably you she was taking a run at," he told him. If he expected Robert to be surprised, he didn't show it.

"Cora?" Alex exclaimed in surprise. "As in...I thought she and Caroline hated one another."

"Oh, they do," Robert Gold said. "The only reason Caroline made a play for me in the first place was that she knew Cora was interested. But the truth is, they both loathe me more."

"It might be an even contest," Irons said, but he didn't elaborate.

"Still, I've nothing to do with the fashion world, and I would not have been at the museum the other night had it not been for Belle. So the question is, what was she looking for, and if it was just a confrontation, with whom? We might have merely been convenient. What do they..."

"Payment," Irons said. "The fashion line gives them an excuse to be in New York. I would imaging that Cora is hoping that everyone has forgotten about her sins. There were the suspicious circumstances behind Henry's death, and Caroline is probably hoping to ride her coattails back into high society. Though I am curious to see what Cora has planned. Surely she is not going to try to rekindle your association," the man said, looking at Gold. Alex, who had missed a good bit of the gossip at the time was trying to remember what he'd heard.

"Maybe she's plans to go after you," Robert gave as good as he got. "If so, I'd watch my drinks."

"Oh, I doubt it," Kenneth said with what might be a smile, almost. He wondered, perhaps she already had made that move.

For a moment Robert considered the mental image of Cora and Layla. The woman might be a snake, though it was an insult to the reptile kingdom, but where it came to her father, Layla was a mongoose, and her father's daughter through and through. Even if Irons were to consider such a dangerous amusement, and he'd been known to indulge in some interesting pastimes, his daughter would have something to say about it. _And it's not as if she doesn't have someone to bury the body,_ he thought, amused. She wasn't the only one to take after her father. If Cora was looking for a new, wealthy husband, she would definitely have to look lower down the food chain. His only concern was whether she would try to involve herself in Regina's life and thereby put herself in a position to be near Belle. That he would not allow, ever.

"Perhaps we had all best watch our backs, gentleman," Gold said.

 

"I missed you," Belle said quietly into the phone as she closed the apartment door behind her.

"And I you," Robert told her warmly. "Perhaps..."

"You have a meeting tonight," she reminded him. As much as she wanted to be with him, getting in the way of his work was no more appropriate than if he'd requested it of her.

"I do, but my meeting is out in Brooklyn.  I'm looking as some real estate that was part of a recent deal. Have dinner with me?" he asked. He had missed her terribly last night, despite the fact that it was so early in their relationship. He'd slept with any number of woman that he'd given less thought to afterward than he'd given to Belle after the first time they'd met. Of course, in none of those cases was it anything but casual and they had both known it. But Belle was special and while he knew that it would probably end, he wanted to make the most of the time he had.

"Why don't I cook?" she volunteered. It wasn't ideal, her kitchen was tiny, and she would have to run to the store, but she wanted him to herself.

"Why don't I pick something up?" he countered. "I don't want to put you out, you have a busy week. No clean up either."

"Deal," she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm on a roll. Thanks to everyone who has left a comment. Please keep it up.


	50. Premier

 

 

By Friday, Belle's case of nerves had risen and dropped so many times that she was feeling mildly seasick. She had spent most of the week trying to keep herself busy. Robert had helped as much as she would let him. Monday night he had brought them dinner, a lovely thick stew with homemade bread from a place she had never heard of, but then she didn't eat out much.

They had enjoyed dinner, cuddled up on her old futon, followed by tea. She had to admit his bespoke suit was out of place with her shabby interior and she said so. "I think what you've done with the place is charming," he told her. "Besides, love, I've lived in places that would make this place look a palace." That had convinced her to ask him to stay. She had heat now, but regardless, her bed was much more comfortable place with him in it.

 

Unfortunately, Tuesday they had both had things to do. Still, she had done as Robert suggested, and contacted Irons, agreeing to show Layla the behind the scenes for the exhibit. She was really bright and interested, and Belle ended up enjoying herself a good bit more than she expected.

It had gotten more interesting afterward. Irons had invited her to join them for dinner, which Belle had refused because she was meeting Ruby. Irons had proceeded to surprise her by extending the invitation to include her friend. Belle had spent a large part of dinner talking to the excited Layla, as had Ruby, discussing costumes, dance, more costumes, and more dance, but it also looked like Irons was watching Ruby.

"I'm not interested in keeping him," she had said, when Belle warned her off again. "I'm just looking for some fun and I'm betting so is he." After that, Belle had dropped it. None of her business. Besides, she had a whole lot more to worry about. Still, it had kept her distracted.

 

Standing at her makeup table, looking at herself, Belle couldn't help but feel she was going to be sick. Not that she didn't always feel that ways before a performance, but this was much different, she wasn't just kittening, she was actually performing.

"Hey Belle," Ashleigh called. "Someone sent these," the perky blonde told her, handing her a bouquet of mixed flowers. They didn't _look_ like something Robert would send, but she pulled the card and opened it. One look at the card told her she was right, Robert would never say any of those things, and he certainly wouldn't call her 'Babe'. She was about to throw them into the nearest bin when Ruby and Ariel came in.

"Hey, where are you going with those? Trouble in Paradise?" Ruby asked.

"Not Robert," she said, handing over the card.

"No kidding," Ruby said, passing it to Ariel. "If this guy thinks he's smooth, he needs to get a dictionary."

"Yeah, smooth like sandpaper. Don't throw them away, Belle," Ariel advised. "Save them to feed him if he shows up tonight."

"Yeah, before you have Leroy show him the door without opening it, or maybe your Robert." Ruby couldn't resist.

"Oh, are you two?" Ariel asked. Belle just nodded. It wasn't like Ruby could keep a secret. "That's awesome. If that idiot shows up, maybe that will get the message across without help."

"Yeah, right. Does that _look_ like someone who gets subtlety?" Ruby asked.

"No," the other girl admitted. "More like someone who needs a dictionary to define it. One of the ones that doesn't know how to take 'drop dead' as a hint.'

"I just wish I knew who sent them," Belle was saying. "But you are right about not taking a hint..."

"Belle?" Robert Gold looked a little disturbed. Clearly he had heard part of the conversation but before he could get worried, Belle turned and threw herself into his arms. Ruby grinned, and Ariel, who _did_ understand subtle, grabbed the girl with the red streaked hair and dragged her along with her towards their own sections.

"All right?" Robert asked, holding her close. He was glad that whatever they had been discussing wasn't him, but he didn't like to think Belle was distressed, or more than she usually was before a show.

"Better now you are here. Just nervous," she told him.

"And those?" he asked of the bunch of not terribly prepossessing flowers she appeared to be waving.

"Some fan with no taste," she said, dismissively. "I suppose I should be flattered, but..."

"But you are not obliged. Shall I make my position clear, should the...er...gentleman make himself known?"

"Absolutely," Belle told him. Why not? After all, Robert was her lover, she wasn't the least bit sorry about it. Not as that sort took hints, but it was worth a try.

After a few more moments of reassurance, Robert took himself off to the front to order a drink. Still not as good a drinks menu as Regina's, but better than the other place. He leaned back and wondered if the flowers were from Rose. Certainly, from what he got of the young man, all his taste was in his mouth, and if he got that anywhere near Belle, a new dentist would be the least of his worries.

Robert was settling comfortably when he heard his name. 'You are both..." Ashleigh started to say when he interrupted. "Irons. It's all right, Ashliegh. We have known one another for a long time, we can share. Leave the rest for the paying custom. He gestured the man into a chair. "So decided to have a look?" he asked, a slightly amused look on his face. He'd no doubt that a ticket from Alex was easy enough to get.

"Like you, an invitation," Kenneth said, looking as he always did when he was about to get something he wanted. Smug, like a well fed house cat.

"Miss Lucas?" Gold asked. The other man nodded and looked at the drinks menu with a grimace. It should be an interesting evening.

By the time the show had started, Gold and Irons had been joined by Regina, also alone. Robert thought about commenting but decided it was better not to. Let her have her fun. He was still deciding how much to tell her about her mother, and her return. Meanwhile there was a show to watch.

Ruby came on early in the program, and she managed during her performance, to toss one of her silky gloves to Irons, who caught it with the reflexes of that same cat. Regina looked at Gold, clearly curious. She didn't know the man save to speak to, and by reputation. He was powerful, rich, known to be ruthless, and attractive in a cold sort of way. Not to her taste though. Gold just smiled and shrugged at her.

It was during the intermission that things got interesting. Jefferson came to him as he was letting himself out to indulge in a cigarette. "Young Rose is here," the man said quietly. "Sitting in the back."

Gold was instantly alert. He'd not been expecting him, but he wasn't surprised, either. The cretin was bound to make a move at some point. Still, if he thought he was going to get backstage, he was perhaps exactly as stupid as they thought he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this. Please keep reading and keep commenting. It's hard to write in this heat, but I'm giving it a good try.


	51. While she danced.

 

 

"Noticed Irons is here," Jefferson commented, almost as if he was reading Robert's mind. "Do you think Nottingham....damnit." The startled comment came from the sudden appearance of the aforementioned shadow by his elbow. "You've got to stop doing that," he said.

"Mr. Gold, Jefferson," the quiet man in black addressed them.

"One of these days you are going to explain how you do that," the investigator said, shaking hands with the other man.

"It is not something that one can teach, and if I did, I would have to kill you after. Is there something I should know?"

"I will leave you gentlemen to business," Robert said, excusing himself. Everything was in capable hands.

 

Of course, he had seen the previews of a good portion of the show already. They were all beautiful, obviously, and talented, but he only had eyes for Belle. Regina had offered several comments, mostly of a technical nature, but positive, of the show in general and certain performers in specific. Robin and Rory's act, which involved balloons which the trick shot artist punctured carefully from a distance while she danced, was particularly well received. "Good idea, pity I don't have enough space for that kind of thing," she commented. It was clear that she was taken with the archer, in a way he had never seen her before. _Interesting_ , he thought, before his own lady was announced and he had no attention for anything else.

The performance was perfect. She had locked her eyes with his and even when they were not making contact, he knew that regardless of the other people watching her, he was the one she was thinking of, and the one she was going home with. That was all he needed to know. He heard some raucous comments, no more or less than with any of the other performances, but he knew they would be shut down should they become difficult, especially considering.

Irons watched with appreciative detachment, much the way that Robert had with Ruby, and when Belle took her last turn and bowed, the man smiled at him in acknowledgement. "She's good," Regina added, though her response was more in the line of a critique. What Regina did or didn't know about his relationship meant nothing to him, at least it did up to the point that Cora came back. Then it could become a different story very quickly, though right now he wasn't entirely certain what would happen then. He disliked uncertainty.

While at the moment, Regina was not speaking to the woman, her mother had an amazing ability to worm her way back into her daughter's good graces, or at least her life. Despite her hard outer shell, Regina had always been vulnerable to the witch, trying desperately for her approval. It was how she had ended up married to Leopold Blanchard, among other things.

There was the expected applause along with a few cat calls and whistles, but it was over for now. Now Robert could lean back and relax until the end of the show, secure in the knowledge that if the fool and his friends did something even the least bit marginal, Jefferson had it well in hand with the undoubtedly enthusiastic help of the club's bouncer, and one black shadow who was perfectly capable of inflicting a great deal of damage with almost no effort. Robert was almost certain the young man didn't actually kill people anymore, his wife was a police detective after all, but he was hardly going to inquire. Instead, he smiled and turned his attention to Mei's new act, and his scotch.

 

"You so nailed it," Ruby squeed as quietly as she could giving Belle a big hug and bundling her into her robe as she came through the curtain following her performance. "I told you that you could do it."

"I was so scared," Belle confessed. "I mean, it's so much different with an actual audience. All that noise.  But accept for that, it was all right. I could hear them, but except for the first couple of tables, I couldn't really see anything, and I was too excited."

"The only one you could see was the one that matters," Ruby said knowingly. Belle ignored her. She needed to get cleaned up and there was still the final bow and then she would be getting back into her street clothes and going to Robert's house. They had plans which involved dinner for two, privacy, and, with any luck, making love in his beautiful four poster bed. With those thoughts to distract her, she returned to the make up table.

 

The show finished on a high note and the audience was being induced to either pay up and leave, or, if they were staying, to clear the floor so they could move some of the tables when Ashleigh came to conduct the three of them backstage. "You don't need to go around to the stage door," she said. "Though you will want to leave that way,". The blond led them towards the steps, as the room began to clear.

"I will call my driver," Robert said, pulling his phone from his pocket as he followed. It was not just that her ex-fool had been in the audience, and had the potential to be disruptive. Though he did not see Jefferson, nor did he see Nottingham, though that didn't surprise him, it meant very little. Either they were around, or they had already been evicted. But he wanted to spirit Belle away to their own very private celebration, one that involved champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and an assortment of delicacies that he had planned specifically for this evening.

One word to Dove and he was walking through the door into the whirlwind that was the backstage area. The dour faced, bearded man who ran the sound, lights, loaded the costumes, and whatever else needed to be done was standing by the entrance. He looked at Irons twice, but considering the company, he waved them through. "Belle was real good," he said abruptly to Gold as he passed. "You tell her that. She did real good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for keeping up with this story, sorry there has been a bit of a hiatus. Life has been a bit crazy there. Please leave a comment in the little box.


	52. After party

 

 

The two men left the club quickly when the show was over, and looked for the alley. "There has to be one. This should be it, take us straight to the back door." They were of similar age and size, both big, beefy men. One was wearing an expensive leather bomber jacket and looked like he had at least made some effort in his appearance. The other was seedier looking, his chin covered in stubble as if he'd had a falling out with his razor.

As they turned the corner, they walked into a man who was already standing in the opening. He was of a comparable height, and his hair was dark but there the similarity to them ended. He was dressed in a white shirt, dark trousers and a loud vest. "Sorry, gents, this alley is closed to all but authorised personnel and vehicles," Jefferson said to them. It hadn't been hard to guess where they had been heading when they made for the exit.

"It's okay, we're authorised," Rose, he of the shaved chin, said. "My girlfriend is one of the dancers." Ian Nottingham had emerged from the shadows, on their other side, startling the two of them and moving them towards the centre of the space.

"Really? So she will have put your name on the list. What name can I look you up under?" Jefferson asked, pulling the clipboard from under his arm.

"Well, it was more of a spur of the moment thing," he temporised. "Wasn't sure I was going to be able to come. Just let me go in and she'll vouch for me."

"Sorry, that's not how this works. You are either on the list or you're not. They know that. Wouldn't want any of the dancers harassed, you understand. Now, since you aren't, best be a good fellow and leave."

'Hey, this is all just a misunderstanding," Gaston said, reaching for his pocket. Keith Nottingham was looking at the shadow in front of him nervously. This wasn't going as easily as he expected. He liked easy. Gaston peeled a couple of bills off a roll and offered them to Jefferson.

"Surely you can overlook it this time," he hinted slyly.

"Ah, yeah, no. But if you promise to move along nicely, we will let you walk away." Jefferson said with amusement.

"You threatening us?" Keith said, proving that at least some part of the message was getting through to him.

"No. He is explaining what will happen if you fail to comply with the rules," the other Nottingham said quietly.  Of course he managed a lot of menace for the low tone of his voice.

"Ain't doing nothing wrong," he shot back, proving he was exactly as stupid as they thought he was.

"Trespass. The alley is on private property and not open to the public," Jefferson told them. He was really losing his patience. He wanted them either to leave or to make their move.  Neither one of them was smart enough to be amusing. He was short of both time and alternatives. Fortunately he needn't wait that long as Rose's friend decided he was going to just push past, almost daring him to attack.

"Come on," Keith said as he went to shoulder his way by Ian. Jefferson winced in anticipation of the damage. One step, Ian placed a hand on his shoulder. Second step, he had pivoted and driven the other man towards the end of the alley, and the street, with more force that perhaps was strictly necessary, or would have been expected from the move. Rose turned, looking like he was deciding whether or not he wanted to involve himself, but Jefferson took advantage of his distraction to grab him in a wrist lock and, with an arm hold on him, directing him towards the opening where Irons' shadow was amusing himself by playing with his prey. Keith was neither bright nor subtle and he rushed Ian like an offended bull.

Predictably, Ian was not there when he made it, slipping behind him and sweeping his legs from under him. It was a measure of the contempt that the professional held for the bully boy that he'd not actually hurt him. Still, the guy was having fun, who was Jefferson to interfere with that? He was more than willing to let him have his amusement, or he was until he reached the corner and saw the two black cars turning towards them. "Time to finish playing with your mouse, the cars are here," he said, propelling Gaston out towards the front of the club. "Next time maybe you'll take directions," he said as he watched Ian Nottingham, with almost surgical precision, shove the large man. He stumbled, almost caught himself, and managed to grab Rose, off balance, taking them both down in a pile of limbs, accompanied by a string of curses, and the laughter of the group waiting to get into the club.

"Strike," Jefferson cried. "Remind me never to bowl against you." Ian smiled with just a hind of a nod and a twinkle in his eye as they made their way back towards the stage door. "What do you think the chances of them learning their lesson is?"

"None. Rose is too arrogant, and as for the other...". Jefferson noticed his refusal to acknowledge the man with the shared surname more than necessary. "Too stupid to make his own decisions," he concluded.

As they went toward the end of the alley, they could see Ruby and Belle standing with Irons, Gold, Regina and another of the performers that he couldn't see clearly in the floodlight.

"Are you certain I cannot offer you a ride, Regina?" Gold asked. It was entirely for form's sake. He had an arm around Belle, who seemed to be leaning contentedly against him in a way that said, to Jefferson at least, that she had definite plans for the evening, also that Gold was a very lucky man. He turned to comment to Nottingham, but the man had already disappeared and it was time for Jefferson to do the same. He nodded to them, gave Gold a significant look and then made himself scarce as well.

 

"How do you feel?" Robert asked Belle as soon as the car door closed behind them. He had seen Jefferson and Nottingham coming from around the corner. The black clad man had disappeared almost immediately, which was normal for him. Jefferson had stayed long enough for him to get the message, the one that said he would deliver the report later, when he was in a more receptive frame of mind, before vanishing himself. Then Regina had excused herself, and (much to his relief), declined his offer of a ride, preferring to join some of the performers for drinks and dinner. He was certain that it was one of the performers in particular, the young archer, that effected her decision,  but it was none of his concern, not when he had Belle to himself.

"Hungry," she answered finally. "Tired too, but..."

"But let us go back to the house. I have a supper waiting," he assured her. Thus far his plans for the evening were simple enough and going quite well, despite the unwanted intrusion of the pair of dolts. Jefferson would give him a full report but that was for tomorrow. Tonight was all about him and Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Sorry it has been a while but life was getting in the way of good writing time. Please leave a comment in the little box.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I don't usually write AU, and I'm not sure where this came from, but my muse has been on vacation from the heat as near as I can tell. A couple of weeks ago Sternal, who is a dear friend, a FF writer (not OUAT) and fellow knitter, encouraged us off to a 'nerdlesque' show based around the Podcast 'Welcome to Night Vale', and the rest is history or something. In addition, when I started to research it, with the help of a friend who is a burlesque performer, I found a serious of wonderful 'Burlesque Princesses' on Pintrest. Those are my only excuses. Please enjoy, read, review, etc, hopefully drag my muse out from whereever she is hiding.


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